


Money Shot

by Ashida



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Exhibitionism, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Sugar Daddy AU sort of, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 65,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashida/pseuds/Ashida
Summary: So Yuuri waited, felt his heart edge back down from his throat as Victor let him catch his bearings, as he just sat and watched Yuuri calm down, patient even though the time he was paying for was ticking.“Strip for me, Yuuri.” came his first instructions in the lull of silence, the same words he always got, and this is how it always began.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It all started when Kanton sent me a link, and now here we are! Thank you Kanton for your help ily.

Yuuri’s fist hovered in front of the apartment door, he almost laughed because he’d never been more nervous to hit something in his life, and it was ironic given that was his _real_ job.

He told himself it was meant to be exactly the same as giving someone a show for the camera, except it wasn’t the same at all because this one was face to face with the person who’d been watching his shows online for the last four months, the person who’d been paying enough money to be his only viewer. 

Every other person before that user was just another name on the screen, another person asking for him to say and do weird things that Yuuri did only because it made money while he tried to pull himself together. But this person was nothing like any of those people, Yuuri knew that much, it was still crazy to actually meet them face to face though, right? Still _insane_ that they lived in the same city. 

He never thought it would come to this, come to him being curious enough about who was on the other side of the screen telling him to touch his body, telling him explore himself and make himself feel good like he’d never thought possible using his own hands.

Yet here Yuuri was, someone as strong and careful as he was with his body; a bundle of nerves and second thoughts just like he had been when he first decided to put himself up for online entertainment after Phichit suggested it to him. 

It was time to admit that he was going to do this, standing in the stark hallway in front of a white door with gold numbers, about to knock because his curiosity with the mild words and gentle prompting that conflicted the cliche username had gotten the best of him.

The only reason he’d come was because he could more than defend himself if push came to shove, if the person on the other side of the door broke the no touching rule. 

So with that in mind: Yuuri knocked, three sharp raps on the door at 7pm on a Monday night, the exact same time it would have been for an online show that lasted for an hour. 

He didn’t need to wait long, within a few seconds he heard footsteps shuffling, coming closer to the other side of the door, he heard the click of locks and deadbolts as Yuuri’s heart raced and thumped harder than what it did during his intense sparring sessions.

Yuuri thought about running, about high tailing it before the door could open, he thought about what excuse he could make so that he might be able to leave before this really happened. He thought about _quitting_ , and it was that pathetic train of thought that kept his feet planted firm to the floor like he’d practiced every day of his life because he was so over failure more than anything else. 

That didn’t stop the adrenaline in his throat though, drying his mouth and leaving him breathless. It didn’t stop his body’s instincts screaming at him to stop being stupid, because what was someone who valued their body more than anything doing here, someone who _needed_ their body in order to fight doing selling it? 

He’d tried to reason with himself, tried to reason that this meeting and deal with one person would be more convenient, but after months of performing for this one person Yuuri was starting wonder why, why him and why so much money for someone like him? Yuuri wasn’t anything special when it came to camboy shows, but this person seemed to think he was.

He didn’t know what to expect of the person on the other side of the door, he didn’t know what they looked like, what they sounded like, all he knew was that this person promised it would be exactly the same, except it was at his house in this flash apartment where all the high earners lived.

Yuuri heard the pull of the door handle, the click of the mechanism that would let the door swing open, and so he held his breath with his body braced for anything, schooled his face and hoped like hell that he could hide his reaction well enough if he turned out to be put off.

It was almost mocking how fast that door swung open compared to how slow it felt in his head, how his heart gave one huge thump to reveal something beyond Yuuri’s wildest expectations. And Yuuri had no chance of hiding his reaction, no way of comprehending that _this_ was the person he’d been talking to for the last four months, the faceless username of ’sharpshooter’ that Yuuri thought was lame up until two seconds ago, because this person was indeed sharp in all the right ways.

He knew his jaw was hanging open, he knew he was probably blushing like something innocent when it was the last thing he should be doing given what he was here for, he knew he was _staring_. 

And as he stood face to face with the taller man with his silver hair and intrusive blue eyes: Yuuri knew that he wasn’t special, that it _was_ just a mere arrangement for convenience, how could it be anything else to someone like that?

He felt those sharp eyes rake up and down his body as he stood in the hall, look at his thick legs under his tight jeans, saw the gaze stop to assess his trim waist before it travelled up to the opening of his V-neck shirt. He felt the intense attention stop on his exposed collar bones, his toned chest and his neck. He felt naked already, exposed and on display, and it definitely was his body and nothing else this man wanted to see. 

The man didn’t even look that much older than Yuuri, but he was so different it was almost frightening. He stood there relaxed and full of poise in an open collared white shirt with fitted black dress slacks, his only accessory a thick gold ring on his finger with a square motif of obsidian and a gold eagle in flight. 

He screamed a different sort of power to Yuuri’s, a different sort of confidence and conviction, someone who commanded not only himself but others too.

He was something so _far_ from Yuuri’s real world of blood, sweat and struggle that he didn’t know what to say.

He was taller, he was wider, he was thick in the arms and chest like only someone who worked out could be. His moonlight hair disheveled and insanely _hot_ and wild, his jaw sharp, his neck a column of flawless skin that led down to the open buttons of his shirt where more flawless skin waited.

Yuuri’s body was nothing to laugh at, he worked it night and day to be in the shape he was, but standing in front of this mystery man left him more insecure than he’d ever been in his life. Phichit was going to have a field day with this.

And then those eyes moved up and looked at _him_ , right in the eye like it wasn’t his body that he was looking at but _all_ of him from the inside out. Yuuri wanted to bolt because he wasn’t prepared for something like this either, this invasion of himself, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away because this man was _beautiful_ in a way Yuuri would never be. 

That sharp expression melted into something gentle then, warm as it took in Yuuri’s nerves and shaken resolve, delicate lips curled in a smile and those eyes twinkled like something that belonged in the sky instead.

“You don’t have to come in, if you don’t want.” and even his _voice_ was gentle, the exact same sort of thing that would come up on the chat screen with huge font when it told him what to do, the exact same coaxing feeling that had Yuuri doing anything this person wanted. It travelled down his spine all the way to his toes, raised the hair on his neck and stayed there like this invisible threat hovering above his willpower.

Yuuri knew he should turn around, he knew that something would change when he stepped beyond the threshold, that there would be no going back from this. 

And it was stupid because even though he wanted to bolt, even though it would be for his own good if he didn’t go any further; Yuuri stayed, because more than anything Yuuri _hated_ running.

“S-sorry, I’m just, I haven’t done this before.” was all Yuuri managed to stutter like some young teen who’d never been kissed, if Yuuri could kick himself then he would have, and he’d make it hurt.

“Pfft, I can tell.” was all he got in response, and this man was _laughing_ at him, his chest echoing deep with amusement as his body shook with movement, then he just stepped back and left the way open for Yuuri to come in, and Yuuri was even more confused about this person than before. 

He could see into the apartment now, the polished marble floor of the foyer where one single black trench coat hung on the coat rack, where one black pair of leather shoes sat in the shoe rack. Well, at least it looked like he was single, Yuuri reasoned with himself as he stepped through with his body coiled tense, ready for anything. 

Yuuri didn’t know what happened now, did he just take his shoes off and go straight to the bedroom? The bedroom was such a _personal_ space, where someone thought about all their deepest feelings and fears, the space where people slept in vulnerability and defencelessness, the bedroom was someone’s sanctuary and he didn’t even know this person’s name.

He only knew him as ’sharpshooter’ who had way too much money to throw at someone like Yuuri, who had a silly username that didn’t fit with his image at all, because he looked like someone who wouldn’t frequent live porn but a rich man’s strip club instead. 

And just like that, his curiosity was winning all over again.

Yuuri kicked his shoes off in silence, felt his every move being watched as the other man stood in wait at the intersection of his hallway.

And his palms were _sweating_ all because he wasn’t sure if he should ask or not, the man assured anonymity before they met, promised that things would stay between them, he didn’t even know why he’d believed it, but he _did_ and here he was showing his face with no dimmed lights or perfectly placed shadows to hide in. 

Yuuri had always made it a point to forego something too personal like names, but he couldn’t just go on calling him by his ridiculous username.

“Can I have your name, at least?” Yuuri asked in a burst of courage, waiting for an answer before he decided to take another step.

He got a level gaze back, unflinching and all knowing because this man knew exactly what he was doing. “I guess it’s only fair you know mine then, since I already know yours, Yuuri.” 

And just like that: Yuuri was panicking. Throat closing up and white noise moving in on his conscious. Panicking because this person knew who he was despite how careful he’d been, this is what his instincts tried to warn him about, tried to make him run before he was too mortified to move. It wasn’t even the fact he was doing this thing on the side that embarrassed him, it was the fact that this man would know about Yuuri’s failure, his disaster of a fight one year ago where he’d _literally_ choked and put himself to shame.

“How?” was all Yuuri managed to breathe, he didn’t care about names anymore, he just wanted to know how this person knew it was him.

That unwavering gaze didn’t change, the gaze of a man who had Yuuri right where he wanted him to be. 

“I was at your fight last year.” was the first answer he got, and then he was stalking towards Yuuri in sure steps, eyes fixed on a prey that could put up a fight this man couldn’t hope to win. “And I’d never forget a body like yours.” 

Yuuri must have been seeing things at the door outside before even though he had his glasses on, must have been imagining that smile and laugh, the gentle demeanour that’d welcomed Yuuri in, and now he was more puzzled and conflicted than he’d ever been.

He could still leave now, knock this guy out with a hook to his temple and disappear, and he thought about it too, thought about assaulting someone to get away, but just as he’d clenched his fist at his side in preparation: that haunting expression changed as the man stopped before him, his eyebrows pinched in what Yuuri could only call frustration and _need_.

“It’s okay, I won’t say anything, Yuuri.” came the whisper then, this reassuring sound that soothed all the prickly edges of Yuuri’s anxiety at being stuck in this unlucky spot, because Yuuri _actually_ believed him, he believed the searching gaze that looked like it was hoping Yuuri would stay, that was wishing for Yuuri not to think he was a liar, that was gauging his every move and reaction. 

It’s not like he had a choice, not like he could turn this down and end things with the person who’d been paying his living expenses and then some for the last few months, it’s not like Yuuri wanted to go back to doing things online and hope that someone would pay enough money for him to get by while he struggled to keep his name from getting out. 

If this person was going to leak his name anywhere he would have by now, surely, so it only made sense to keep dealing with this person, that’s what Yuuri told himself anyway.

So with a resigned breath Yuuri held his ground and stared right back with conviction of his own. 

“What’s your name then?” he asked again.

And he could have _sworn_ he heard a sigh of relief, saw those perfect pink lips curl in a smile again before the man stepped back and gestured Yuuri down the hall, toward the bedroom no doubt.

“Call me Victor.” this man called Victor answered, his voice back to this deep note that struck all the right chords in Yuuri’s body, and jesus this person could sweet talk anyone he wanted with a voice like that, could pull anyone with his looks and his body. Maybe he was a weirdo after all, maybe he just liked watching people get off in his spare time? 

It didn’t matter, you could get away with a kink like that when you looked like he did, they both knew it, they both knew Victor meant every single one of the next words he said. 

“Remember it, Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, because even though I won’t be touching you, I’ll still have you screaming it all the same.”

* * *

Saying he walked with trepidation was an understatement, because now he was nervous and hot and the combination was oddly exhilarating, there was nothing he could do about what’d already happened, so he might as well do what he came here for and put on a show.

The hall was stark and white with the same marble floors and empty walls, it led to a bedroom at the end with an open door and Yuuri stopped short the moment he set foot on the plush carpet, because this _wasn’t_ real and he was definitely in a movie or some erotic romance novel that women swooned over.

The sprawling super king bed was the centrepiece of the room, pure white sheets and pillows that beckoned against the contrast of the grey carpet, the red shag-pile rug at the foot of the bed, the obsidian black nightstands on either side of the bed that were empty of any personal touches whatsoever.

To his left the wall was _all_ window that looked over the city, floor to ceiling and corner to corner of gorgeous views of this concrete jungle that was home to Yuuri, lights flashing in all the colours that kept a city running; red, yellow and green traffic lights, the soft glow of white street lights and moving cars, the watchful twinkle of the stars and moon above that seemed to be looking through this very window.

The wall next to the door opened out to a walk in robe with more suits and shoes than Yuuri had ever seen in his life. Black and navy blue, pin stripes and chequered patterns, matching waist coats and ties, black leather shoes and brown leather shoes with a veritable display of scarves hanging from a compartment of their own.

Yuuri couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t fathom being trapped in a suit when he trained shirtless in tight lycra shorts every day, it made him uneasy just to look at the formality of them all hanging perfectly, it also made him realise that this person would have more money in his wardrobe than Yuuri currently had in life savings and assets.

There was another entrance on the other side of the wardrobe that might as well have been an extra room, one that led to a pristine white bathroom with a tiled floor and polished mirror from what he could see.

But before he could look any further and see what he’d really gotten himself into with Victor Nikiforov, there was this heat on his neck, warm breath on his skin as Victor lit him on fire with inches between them, not breaking the touching rule in the slightest and still making Yuuri shiver despite himself. 

“Just like usual, Yuuri.” and why was Victor back to being gentle again, familiar even. That’s because it was easy to forget that Victor _was_ familiar, that Victor had seen him three nights a week, every inch of skin except his face, his every reaction to his instructions, heard his voice and the way he whimpered or moaned just to make money. 

And with that in mind and his gentle prompt Yuuri dropped his backpack along with his glasses at the door and moved towards the bed, feeling the pressing heat of Victor’s attention on his back and this was nothing like usual _at all_ because there hadn’t been that tension or weight in the room when it was just him and the username on the screen. There hadn’t been second thoughts or mistakes, but it was too late for it all now.

So he did it like usual, crawled onto the bed that was firm for all the right reasons like being able to fuck someone into the mattress, and he waited for instructions as he sat up on his knees like he always did. He waited for Victor to settle on this black leather chair that sat against the wall opposite the foot of the bed, he waited for him to lean back to cross his legs and clasp his fingers together. And he noticed that huge gold ring on his knuckle and wondered what it meant, because the gold gleamed like this beacon in his mildly impaired vision, gave him something to concentrate on while Victor looked him up and down.

“Who would have thought I’d get to watch one of Japan’s most prized fighters in my bed instead of in the ring?” came the low drawl, full of taunt and provocation. It was obvious he wanted to make Yuuri bite, it was _easy_ to see, and still Yuuri bit back all the same.

“I’m not prized anymore.” was all he snapped back, feeling his body heat up further in retaliation, because if Victor wanted to play this game then Yuuri would at least accept this challenge. 

The laugh he got back was a real thing, astonished and surprised like Yuuri was cracking a joke instead of telling the truth, Victor shook in his chair as he chuckled and shifted positions to lean forward with his elbows braced on his knees to fix Yuuri in place with his gaze. 

“That’s what you think.”

It’s not what he thought, it’s what was true, Yuuri hadn’t shown his face in the ring for a year, he’d turned down fight after fight, interviews and press conferences with other members of his franchise. He’d lost all his sponsors and only had his coaching job left, along with _this_. Paying the bills with his body but in an entirely different way.

He was useless inside the ring now, a ball of jitters and yips that panicked at the thought of someone getting him to the ground in a grapple, useless at the one thing he loved most, so he might as well put his body to good use elsewhere. 

So Yuuri waited, felt his heart edge back down from his throat as Victor let him catch his bearings, as he just sat and watched Yuuri calm down, patient even though the time he was paying for was ticking. 

“Strip for me, Yuuri.” came his first instructions in the lull of silence, the same words he always got, and this is how it always began.

It was too hard to meet that deep blue that still managed to stand out to him, he should be used to this, you never looked away from your opponent even if your eyesight wasn’t perfect, Yuuri’s other senses always put him level, always let him meet someone head on. Not Victor though, all Yuuri could do was look at that gold shine of the ring on Victor’s finger as he crossed his arms over his body, reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

And Victor’s eyes were all over his skin, watching Yuuri’s hands as they went to the button and zip of his jeans, following the wiggle of his hips as he struggled to pull them down over his ass because nothing ever fit his muscled bottom half. 

Then he was kneeling there in his black briefs only, breathing fast on the rush alone that someone was in the same room as him, like he’d just thrown himself out of a perfectly good plane and was in that weightless fall before impact. 

“Shut your eyes, lay on your back and relax, get used to it.” and it nearly was the same, the words so similar to something he’d read from him, not forceful or demanding, but it coupled with the baritone of his voice and Yuuri was glad to be able to escape by shutting his eyes and putting himself in pitch darkness. 

Back against the soft covers, every inch of his skin screamed in sensation with his eyes shut, he felt the luxurious material surrounding him, the press of the mattress against the muscles of his back, the rounds of his ass as he arched his spine and ran his hands up along his abs.

He shifted on the soft covers, bathed in the scent of clean linen and lavender, took deep breaths and felt his body temperature spike as heat took over, because there was no way to really relax when someone was watching him, every exposed inch of skin.

“Just keep touching yourself like that, Yuuri.” and it was like Victor was in his ear, whispering against his bared flesh, touching everything through Yuuri’s hands instead.

And this _was_ crazy after all, insane and filthy, because he could feel himself getting hard already with Victor’s eyes on him, this near complete stranger who looked at Yuuri like he was something to eat. 

Yuuri was more in tune with his body than he’d ever been thanks to this person, more in tune to the places that made him genuinely feel good, the places that had Yuuri’s mouth falling open on its own accord.

And Victor knew this too, so there wouldn’t be any faking it or lies for someone who’d offered to pay him double the usual amount just to be here.

It was always that soft spot of skin under his chest that he started, running his fingers from side to side and back up to his nipples to pinch, arching his back higher because this sort of blind sensory deprivation outside of training was a completely new thing, and it was better than he thought it would be.

“You’re beautiful.” came this soft whisper of encouragement from the chair on the other side of the room, this secret caress of his skin that had Yuuri biting at his lip because he never expected it to be like this, this surprisingly _good_.

“Don’t bite your lip, let me hear whatever you have to say.” and Victor was still so soft, warm and coaxing, so Yuuri just _let_ his mouth fall open so he could breathe his tension out with a sigh. He let his hands roam further, back down his abs, over his hips and into the insides of his thighs where he raked at skin with his nails and set his world burning even hotter.

“Amazing, Yuuri.” came the deep hum, and he could tell Victor wasn’t moving, he was just _watching_ , fixated on Yuuri’s every single move.

Is this what he’d been like behind the screen, still apart from when he typed things in the chat bar, motionless as he waited for Yuuri to read and respond? Yuuri hoped it was.

So Yuuri filled the room with quiet gasps and whimpers as he wound himself up on someones else’s bed instead of his own, he knew he wouldn’t be touched, knew Victor just wanted a show, and it gave him a confidence he’d never had behind the camera.

“You _do_ like this.” Victor said then, amused and _hoarse_ all in one, voice strict with restraint, “I can see it on your face.” 

And Yuuri couldn’t help but choke out a whine, because Victor was right, he liked it more than he was nervous about it, the heat pooling in his gut said it all. The throb of his groin and the empty feeling inside that wanted his fingers.

“Pull your briefs down, let me see all of you in person.” and it sounded like a plea, like Victor thought Yuuri might stop, like Yuuri hadn’t been following his every word before now. 

He dragged the waist band down against himself, let the fabric rub before his cock sprang free into the cool air of Victor’s bedroom, already so hard and aching to be touched.

“Good, so good, Yuuri.” and did Yuuri have a praise kink now? He must have, because he couldn’t stop his body shivering, couldn’t stop the tremble as the words sunk into his skin. 

“Take yourself, start slow, make it last, Yuuri.” and the sound of Victor’s deep voice went straight to his gut, shot right down his body and to his dick that pulsed in response. 

“Nnnn.” and it was _good_ , the slow pull of his fist up and down, better than it’d ever been when he’d done it alone before now. 

“Don’t come until I say, if you do we start all over again.” there was an edge now, a challenge and a warning that had Yuuri checking if Victor was still in his chair.

And he was, sitting there in the same position with his hands clasped together, his blue eyes filled with rapture and worship like Yuuri was one of the wonders of the world, jaw clenched tight as he swallowed back the want that Yuuri was sure Victor was feeling. 

“I’ll make a mess of your bed.” Yuuri stated as he realised he was already starting to, as he rut against the sheets still looking at Victor watching him, and he could have _sworn_ he saw a vein throb in Victor’s neck.

Victor met his eyes then, sharp blue irises piercing the veil of Yuuri’s compromised sight.

“Thats the point, Yuuri.” was all Victor said, bold and obvious in his meaning.

And oh, this was a power of its own, Yuuri knew, not the kind he was used too, but it was satisfying all the same, _thrilling_ even.

So Victor made him speed up, made him moan and curl into himself in the sheets when he told Yuuri to stop, told him to take his hands off moments before he would find himself lost in pleasure, told him to pinch the base of his cock to stop from spilling all over himself. And after that he made him start slow all over again, build up the pace as he slicked himself up and down with his own lube.

He’d always just let Yuuri go before now, on screen, let Yuuri come into his hand and catch his breath, let him lie there until the hour ticked over. 

This time Victor made him last the whole way, made Yuuri _hurt_ with need as his cock begged to be jerked for that extra few seconds that would turn Yuuri into a boneless mess. 

Victor made real pleas of desperation come out of his mouth, ‘ _please_ ’, ‘ _let me finish_ ’, ‘ _let me come_ ’, and still Victor said no.

He praised his control, praised Yuuri’s body when he bucked off the sheets into his hand, hummed his approval when Yuuri _whined_ and took his hand off.

And that voice was getting to him, reaching into him and making his body crazy, making it respond to Victor’s every word, controlling him, and all Yuuri wanted to do was _scream_.

“Pleeeaaaase.” and Yuuri did cry out then, he sobbed because he was going to keep going no matter what Victor said, it was either that or come untouched anyway and he’d much rather be fucking into his fist than coming into thin air. “Don’t make me stop, Victor.” 

Victor’s soft sigh felt like it was right in his ear, teasing him even further, “Good, Yuuri. That’s all you needed to say, my name, so come for me.” 

And he already was, arching his back higher than before, ass off the bed, toes curling in the sheets as his other hand ripped at the fabric to try and stop himself from drowning in this self induced high.

A flash flood of bliss rocked his entire body, had his hips stuttering, body quaking as came all over himself, all over his bare body, his chest, his neck and all over Victor’s clean white bed.

He was too breathless so care, too shell shocked as he lay there panting to think about what happened next, he needed to regain control of his body first.

Before that could happen though there was a shuffle of feet next to the bed, a dark shadow lurking at the edge of Yuuri’s instincts that told him to snap his eyes open, to make himself less vulnerable than lying naked on someones bed with his eyes shut.

And Victor was standing above him, holding out Yuuri’s glasses with a look of concern on his face as he checked Yuuri over, as checked to see that Yuuri didn’t hate this after all.

“You okay?” 

Yuuri was more than okay, he was still buzzing, his body humming with this bone deep satisfaction that was Victor’s doing, and he’d be a liar if he said no now.

“Y-yeah, I guess I am.” his confession shy and coy as he tried to hide his face, tried to roll over and gain a semblance of himself.  
  
“You’re adorable, Yuuri.” Victor crooned as he stood there watching Yuuri turn an embarrassed shade of pink, he said it like it was a good thing, like being able to kick someone in the throat in the streets and then turn shy in the sheets was a good thing. 

Victor didn’t press Yuuri further, didn’t give any sign of making a move, of breaking his word, he just chuckled down at him before turning on his heel to walk to the door.

“I’ll let you clean yourself up, you can have a shower if you want.”

And with that, he left Yuuri alone in his massive hollywood sized bedroom.

* * *

Yuuri took the chance to shower, the chance to assemble himself bit by bit as he tried to put the pieces of Victor Nikiforov together, as he came up with nothing each time.

Maybe he trusted too easy by coming here, maybe he believed too easy that Victor wasn’t some secret online creep just because he was inhumanly attractive, maybe there was no ill intentions despite the fact he’d known it was Yuuri all along. 

Maybe he did just like Yuuri’s body that much, this seemed the most likely answer, because even now as he got dressed Yuuri could still recall the way Victor looked at him, not with any intention to hurt or harm, but with every intention to take it all in, to _marvel_. So Yuuri also decided Victor was definitely a little bit crazy himself, or blind. 

It’d barely been ten minutes and Yuuri was wandering back down the hall, keeping his eyes straight ahead so he couldn’t be accused of snooping or being nosy. Not that he got the chance to look anyway, to peer around the corner into the open plan living space that was quiet and lifeless, one dim lamp on to light the shadow filled living area.

It reeked of solitude and self sufficiency, of a dark personality that matched the grey hue of the room.

The person in front of him now didn’t seem to fit any of those descriptions, because Victor’s eyes were bright, his teeth were bright, his _hair_ was bright. Yuuri didn’t know him one bit, hadn’t even known his name until an hour ago, but from appearances alone, from the appraising smile on his face as he met Yuuri in the hall; he decided that Victor didn’t go with the space at all. The contrast was too great.

The silence was weighted as they both stood there, as Yuuri fidgeted on the spot because he didn’t know what to do now either, didn’t know if he should ask for money.

He hated needing it, something so material, everything up until now had gone to paying off debt and savings because he didn’t know how long this messed up good fortune would last. 

Victor was watching him, watching his turmoil as Yuuri berated himself all over again, and thankfully he took it into his own hands to step closer still, a distance that was _nearly_ intimate as he reached out and slipped the agreed sum of money into the front pocket of Yuuri’s jeans.

He felt Victor’s finger run along his skin through the pocket, felt the heat in Victor’s gaze as he loomed above Yuuri, an inch away from his boundaries. 

“See you again on Wednesday?” Victor whispered down to him, his eyes _asking_ as he took Yuuri in, and Victor was close, but Yuuri realised he hadn’t put himself too close for Yuuri’s comfort.

It might have been that that decided it for him. Yuuri couldn’t say, he knew he was strong, he knew he’d have the upper hand, he knew his body could be a weapon if he needed it.

Yet standing in front of Victor Nikiforov made him feel nothing but powerless. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Not even the sound of Yuuri’s shin striking the leather boxing bag was satisfying to him this morning. 

To be fair, he was fuelled only by a rough night’s sleep and a long morning run through the city streets in the crisp temperature before sunrise. He’d run all the way to the gym for his morning session, and here he was: dripping in sweat, hair plastered to his head, breathing heavy, blood running hot, frustrated. 

He’d tried to puzzle out what exactly happened last night, what it meant and what he was going to do about it. He’d tried to puzzle out Victor Nikiforov and come up with nothing no matter which way he looked at it. So he’d tossed and turned in the sheets of his own bed all night after turning down Phichit’s invitation to stay at his place to fill him in. 

Aside from his striking good looks and the ridiculous amounts of money to spare: he seemed real, Yuuri wouldn’t say genuine just yet. He certainly wasn’t just a name on the screen anymore.  
The more Yuuri thought about it, the more he was convinced that Victor had been absolutely careful in not pushing Yuuri’s boundaries, that he’d been attentive in making sure Yuuri was as comfortable as he could have been for the entire experience. It was oddly reassuring, comforting even.

And yet on the other hand there was that look in his eye when Victor said he’d been at Yuuri’s fight last year, the indomitable shade of blue in his eyes when he said _’I’d never forget a body like yours.’_  
There was the deep note of his voice as he sat in the chair and gave Yuuri instructions, the tone that took control of Yuuri’s body and made it do whatever Victor said. It was all mixed with his _so_ gentle praise, the way he called Yuuri beautiful, the purr in his voice when he said Yuuri was doing well, the quiet question in the undertone that was asking Yuuri not to stop. Then, there was the fact that at the time Yuuri didn’t _want_ to stop, that Victor had been right, that he’d _liked_ it. 

It was the fact he’d known all along who Yuuri was, watched him online for four whole months before this. Had he been trying to soften Yuuri up just so things could end up like this? It wasn’t a lie when Yuuri said eliminating the online medium was better for him, and if it was better for Victor too… Yeah, Yuuri wasn’t even close to figuring it out. He wasn’t over turning into a blushing mess whenever he thought about it in too much detail either. 

He’d been through his morning coaching session with Minami, trying to get the young man to brush up on his footwork and defence before his first major fight in a month’s time. He’d gone through his own session with Celestino, he’d kicked at the mitts with ferocity, punched them, dodged them as Celestino called for more speed, more concentration, and Yuuri still couldn’t shake off his frustration. 

So he ended up just standing in front of his favourite bag hanging off a chain in the corner of the large fighting gym, kicking it over and over with a resounding slap of shin pads on leather. 

It was an old bag, cracked and peeling leather in all the common strike zones, worn paint on the wall behind it from the amount of times it’d skimmed the wall from being hit too hard. Right now there was a circle of sweat droplets on the ground from Yuuri’s slog session. He’d spent so many hours of his life hitting this bag that it was like an old friend, it listened to all his problems and never said a word back. He was thankful for it now. He could tune out the rest of the gym with its padded sparring areas and always busy atmosphere. It was one of the biggest gyms in the city that was affiliated with the fighting federation, reporters came and went, news crews and fight officials for drug tests and current weights. They knew Yuuri well enough to leave him alone when he was in the corner like this. 

Up his leg went as he leant back with his body, lashing out with a twist of his core and the straightening of his knee to strike the bag in the same spot above his head every single time. Normally he loved the sound it made, the slap as he made contact, the rattle of the chain as the bag jolted on impact, the echo through the large building that had everyone turning heads.

Lost in his own thoughts, he zoned out to what everyone was saying, the looks of awe as his weight bearing leg flexed, the comments on the straight line his foot carved through the air before it hit the bag, talk of his nimble footwork he’d trained so long for.

The only thing he was aware of was Phichit arriving at the gym, he could hear his bubbly greeting from the other side of the open spaced building with roller doors that led to the sunshine outside. He heard the hellos everyone echoed back to the well known Thai fighter who could kick your teeth in with a smile on his face, most of all he heard Phichit coming closer and closer, and so Yuuri could only kick the bag that much harder, because he still hadn’t figured out what to say to him yet. 

“Yuuuri! You look like you’re preparing for a fight next week, everyone will start talking if you don’t tone it down, haha.” Phichit dropped his gym bag against the wall beside Yuuri’s boxing bag and leant against the brick with an expectant smile on his face.

Yuuri felt the blood rush to his head, felt his body heat up further, not from physical exertion but from embarrassment, and so he kept kicking the bag as he said nothing.

“So?” Phichit prompted as he made a vague hand gesture, his eyes sparkling with excitement because this whole thing had been his idea in the first place, the online shows. After all, Phichit had done it himself before he won his first pro fight and got sponsors of his own. “How’d it go with Mr Sharpshooter?” 

And Yuuri still couldn’t say anything, because he didn’t even know the answer to Phichit’s question himself, he just kept kicking the bag as Phichit burst into laughter. It was lucky they were best friends or Yuuri would have kicked him instead. 

“You didn’t go, did you?' came the next question, like Phichit had been expecting this all along, he looked slightly disappointed, probably only because he’d been looking forward to talking about it all night. 

Yuuri just sputtered as he kicked out, thankful for the racket he made, the clink of chain, the crack of his blow landing. Even though no one was close enough to hear their conversation, he still felt awkward nonetheless. Everyone wondered how he got by on his coaching wage, how he still managed to keep his nice condo in the same building as Phichit, not default his lease while still training like he usually did. Yuuri had gone into debt to keep it all, everything he’d worked so hard for, everything that made his family proud, the thought of moving home with nothing had terrified him, the thought of free loading off Phichit had chafed at his skin. It was never about how much money he had, but the fact of what he would do if he had none, what it _meant_ if he had none, that his life up until this now was pointless.

Now, he’d paid it all back and then some, _that’s_ how much money Victor had been paying him in the last four months. 

“No, I-I went.” was all he could mutter in the end, and of course Phichit’s face absolutely lit right up.

“Haha! You’re crazy, Yuuri! I can’t believe it!” he was gaping, mouth open even as he just laughed like he always did, he was so _happy_ , but at the same time Phichit was one of the most terrifying fighters Yuuri knew. 

It was Yuuri’s turn to stop and gape then, to let the bag swing back and forth without another kick to rock it on its hook. “Phi-Phichit! You said it would be fine!” 

Phichit sat down and took his wrist wraps out from his bag before beckoning Yuuri to sit on the floor with him in the corner of the gym. Yuuri fell on his ass and leant against the wall, thankful for the drink bottle Phichit tossed in his lap. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually go, you of all people, Yuuri! What if he was an axe murderer or something?” 

The water Yuuri was sucking through the nozzle of his bottle promptly shot back out as he spit his drink, sputtering as he coughed in surprise because now that he’d seen Victor, heard him, been to his house and talked to him face to face, the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

“The look on your face says he’s definitely not an axe murderer.” Phichit commented provocatively, watching the shade of Yuuri’s cheeks turn an ever deepening shade of pink. 

And the only thing Yuuri could offer in return was a groan as he propped his head against the wall and tried to look away. “I don’t think he’d have an axe in an apartment like his.”

“Oh my god, he’s hot isn’t he?!” his friend was frozen in place now, hanging on Yuuri’s answer with wide eyes full of anticipation.

Yuuri just groaned again before he finally admitted it. “He’s so hot, Phichit. So hot.” 

Impossibly, Phichit’s eyes got even wider, his mouth dropped open before he practically rolled on the floor and laughed, “Holy shit, I can’t believe it!” 

“Phichit, stoppp.” and it was Yuuri nudging Phichit with his foot to sit up, to stop drawing attention to the two already well known fighters in the corner of the gym.

“Na uh, Yuuri. Tell me everything.” there was no arguing with that tone, the tone that would hound Yuuri until he gave Phichit every last scrap of information so that Phichit could judge things for himself. 

And naturally, Yuuri told him. Phichit had stayed in the lounge room for Yuuri’s very first online show, Yuuri’s ever present moral support just by being in the same apartment even though they lived in the same building. This time Phichit helped him stretch and cool down as Yuuri gave Phichit a flustered play by play of everything that went down last night.

His friend listened the whole time, laughing at things Yuuri didn’t find particularly funny, and even blushing himself at some parts that turned Yuuri beet red. He took it all in without judgement like he always did, until finally Yuuri was done telling him everything he could remember. 

They stretched out on the mats in silence while Phichit mulled it over, Yuuri to cool down and Phichit to warm up. Sitting upright facing each other, they spread their legs to open hips and groins, leaning forward with hands on the mat to increase the tension. It was then that Phichit finally made up his mind, because his face lit up all over again.

“I’ve figured it out.” Phichit hummed to himself as his teeth flashed. “If this Victor guy isn’t actually into you, I’ll eat my own fight winning foot.” 

Yuuri fell out of the stretch to roll on the floor all over again, looking up at Phichit who was now grinning down at him. “Phichit, that’s crazy even coming from you.” 

That was an impossibility Yuuri couldn’t even comprehend, Victor paid Yuuri for a service, paid to see his body, and Yuuri needed that money. That was the only sure thing about all of this. 

Phichit just kept laughing as he gave Yuuri a pat on the head in a mock display of comfort, because it was clear that Phichit had well and truly made up his mind. 

“You’ll see! The real question is though, are you really gonna go back?”

Yuuri hadn’t made his mind up about that yet. 

* * *

It was Wednesday already, and time had gone _too_ fast for this. 

Phichit managed to keep him distracted for the rest of the day yesterday, they had a fun sparring session in the afternoon, goofed off on the mats as they tried to kick each other in the head for laughs. They’d shed their shirts and raced each other around the block for sprint sessions and ended up collapsing as they crossed the line back into the building, breathless, exhausted and a spectacle for everyone who watched their antics. If anyone could make him shed his skin and let loose, it was Phichit, and Victor Nikiforov too, apparently.

They’d repeated it all again today, and as a result Yuuri was exhausted from pushing himself and another restless sleep last night. Yet despite his efforts he’d spent the whole time until this point nervous all over again as he thought about this very moment. It wasn’t dread or agitation, there was no way he’d go if it were any of those things, no, it was pure anticipation. 

Yuuri _was_ back.

Here he was again at 7pm, standing in front of the white door with the gold numbers, heartbeat rapid. He’d been stupid about it this time, fretted over what clothes to wear, how to do his hair, he’d even checked his skin. Not because he wanted to impress Victor, no, it was only to appease the insecurity he felt simply by standing next to someone so stupidly attractive. In the end it was pointless though, because if this time was anything like before then he was just going to end up a naked mess anyway. 

So he’d donned the same casual jeans, t-shirt and messy hair as usual, and fidgeted at the door all over again before he made the decision to knock. Phichit was right, he was crazy, this was crazy, and yet Yuuri couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t come he’d end up disappointed somehow, in himself for running away, let down because he’d given up before he could figure this person out. 

He was _more_ nervous than before, this time because he knew exactly who was on the other side of the door, and because what Phichit said yesterday kept ringing in his ears like some form of second hand mockery. If Phichit actually met this guy then he’d definitely agree with Yuuri instead, that much Yuuri knew. 

There was no way out of it now though, he was here and it was only an hour, so he took a breath before rapping on the door the same three times as before, short and sharp in the dense silence of the hall behind him. 

It was few breaths later that the sound of locks and the door handle being pulled answered him in return, his stomach flipped, heart jumped in his chest, and Yuuri already couldn’t think properly as Victor opened the door.

And nope. Yuuri hadn’t been imagining things last time, hadn’t been imagining how good looking he was, hadn’t been making up the icy colour of his eyes or the ethereal sheen of his hair. He hadn’t made up the cut of his jaw or the sculpted lines of his throat that led down to his chest that Yuuri could see because his shirt was unbuttoned just _enough_. 

Yuuri knew he was staring all over again even though he’d told himself not to. 

It was Victor that broke the ice this time too as he sighed and softened the intensity of his gaze like he was relieved that Yuuri had even turned up.

“Once again, you don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.” he offered, his voice soft and welcoming, and Yuuri hadn’t been imagining that either, the genuine offer for Yuuri to stop here if he felt like it. 

All Yuuri could do was shift on his feet as his body hung in between fight or flight.

“Ah no, it’s fine, I guess it’s going to take a while to get used to it.” Yuuri mumbled to himself, it was going to take a while to get used to Victor more than anything, and with that he twiddled his thumbs because he didn’t know what else to do. 

“A while, hmm.” Victor hummed to himself with a finger on his lip that was definitely trying to hide a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. That gold ring shone bright on his knuckle this time too, a beacon for Yuuri’s eyes to follow. And Yuuri could have _sworn_ that was a blush on Victor’s cheeks that he saw as the man stepped back and beckoned him into the apartment through the open door. 

Yuuri kicked his shoes off and put them in the rack like last time, felt Victor’s eyes on his back as Yuuri counted the same single pair of polished leather shoes and lone black trench coat in the foyer. When he turned around, the smile, the blush that he must have imagined was gone, and Victor was there in front of him, his expression impassive as his eyes traveled up and down Yuuri’s body like he was seeing it for the first time all over again.  
He could _feel_ Victor take in every detail from head to toe. His posture, the way he set his shoulders, the way his arms hung limp at his sides because Phichit had worked him to the bone. Yuuri’s heart was _racing_ , hammering in his ears at having Victor’s full attention this close, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Victor could hear that too. That only made it worse.

Finally he settled on Yuuri’s face, gazes locked as Victor searched every single part of him, he could tell Victor was staying well out of Yuuri’s personal space, this carefully judged distance like he wanted to be as close as possible without putting Yuuri on the wrong kind of edge. In the end Yuuri still had to avert his eyes, scratch his head as he looked down because the scrutiny was too intense, exposing more than just his bare skin. 

“You’re tired.” Victor stated, and it wasn’t a question, Victor had him figured out in an instant. 

Everything hung on the weighted quiet left by Victor’s last words, Yuuri’s mind trying to put a hundred puzzle pieces together at once and failing to come up with any clear picture. He was already overthinking it and he hadn’t even been inside Victor’s apartment for two minutes. 

“I’m fine.” Yuuri forced himself to take a breath, to run a hand through his hair and meet Victor in the eye because how he felt, how tired he was or how nervous he was didn’t matter at all. It wouldn’t matter to Victor, and surely it wouldn’t make a difference to anything in the end. 

Except Victor’s pupils sharpened at that, narrowed on him to pinpoint Yuuri’s lie, and he looked annoyed, brows pinched for a split second, jaw clenched, and was that _unease_ he could see glisten in Victor’s eyes? 

It was all gone in an instant as Victor took one step closer to set Yuuri’s blood to slow boil, because there was heat in this proximity, electric tension as Victor looked down at him. And maybe Yuuri was the crazy one after all, more blind than he thought, because he thought he could _see_ the deep shade of want in the far reaches of Victor’s eyes, veiled under self control and discipline. 

“I’ll decide if you’re fine or not, Yuuri.” Victor drawled to him, this unspoken call out to Yuuri’s lie. It raised all the hairs on Yuuri’s skin, had him shiver because they weren’t even in that huge bedroom yet and that voice was already getting to him. 

Yuuri couldn’t look away now, he didn’t want to, he was getting too caught up in Victor’s intensity, and there was this stubborn part of himself that would never back down at vital moments like this. The tension only spiked further, Yuuri could feel the exhilaration setting in, the temporary rush that would make him forget how tired he was. This was _nothing_ like doing it on camera at all.

“You know the way.” and it was all whisper from Victor now, coupled only with a minor smirk because it was clear that Victor liked this side of Yuuri at least. The one that put up a fight, after all it’s what Yuuri did for an actual living. 

The marble floor was just as polished and spotless as last time, the lighting set to this warm glow down the hall as Yuuri tread with quiet steps to the door at the end of the hall.

It was definitely unthinkable how a few words with Victor had managed to ease his nerves, the no touching rule Yuuri had set was still loud and clear even though it hadn’t been mentioned, and that was the most important thing of all about this. Yuuri’s body was his own, and they both knew it. 

At least Yuuri knew what to expect of the bedroom this time, the views of the city to his right, the impressive walk in robe and the bathroom beyond that, the soft grey carpet underfoot and the massive bed in the middle of it all. 

The white sheets were flawless, not a wrinkle or fold to be seen, and already Yuuri was remembering how soft the fabric was, the press of the mattress and the scent of clean linen over his skin. 

Even if he knew what to expect this time, it still didn’t stop him from pausing a few steps inside the impersonal room to catch his bearings, because this type of luxury was something he would _never_ get used to. It was foreign, unfamiliar ground, and this is where Yuuri needed instructions. 

Victor stopped behind him then too, stopped to watch Yuuri take it all in, to gauge Yuuri’s reaction like maybe Yuuri was still going to back out after all this. 

“Just like usual, Yuuri.” he repeated the same words as last time in the same gentle tone, coaxing and soft, like he knew here of all places was a place to give Yuuri the most space, the most room to breathe. And it was as if Victor knew that before even Yuuri himself did, because hearing the reassurance was enough to have Yuuri setting his bag and glasses down next to the door before moving towards the bed.

He might have been a tad nervous again as he walked on his knees to the middle of the mattress, because Victor was settling himself in that black leather chair, leaning back with his legs crossed and fingers clasped together in his lap while he waited for Yuuri in turn. 

In the end they were both left staring at each other, motionless, Victor in his chair and Yuuri on Victor’s bed, everything a little blurry but not nearly enough that he couldn’t make out Victor’s eyes focused solely on him. 

“Remember my name this time too, Yuuri.” Victor’s voice carried through the room, low and heavy and full of taunt.

“Give me a reason not to forget it then.” Yuuri bit back before he could stop himself, and maybe he was more tired than he thought if he was blurting out things before he could even think about what he was saying. Oh god, did he really just say that? Yuuri wanted to bury himself in the pillows and never resurface. 

But Yuuri heard the way Victor’s breath caught in his throat, saw the way his eyes flashed before he started chuckling at Yuuri’s new found courage now they had a bit more distance between them.

“Don’t worry, love. By the time you’re done with all this I’ll have given you more than one. Now strip for me, Yuuri.” Victor wasn’t holding back with his voice now, the velvet tone and the smooth way it ran over Yuuri’s conscious, and so Yuuri stripped.

It was hardly ceremonious, pulling his shirt over his head to toss it to the side, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper wasn’t anything special, but he still knew Victor was watching his every move all the same. 

He had to wiggle out of his jeans as usual, thumbs tucked in the sides as he pulled them over his ass and down his thighs, back he sat so he could pull them off his feet. And then he was sitting there in his black briefs only, his flesh bare and on display for Victor to inspect every inch of. 

And Yuuri must have been more tired than he thought, because he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t settle and stop his heart from thundering in his chest as Victor sat and watched the start of the show. 

“Sit up against the bedhead.” Victor prompted then, and there was still no pressure, just quietly issued instructions that Yuuri found himself following.

So he sat up against the pillows and the padded bedhead and _oh_ , Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat this time, because like this there really was no other place to look except for at Victor on the opposite side of the room. This was different than from behind the camera, _and_ different to the last time he was here on this bed. 

“Don’t take your eyes off me, Yuuri.” came the next instructions, Victor’s voice this soothing whisper, and it made Yuuri tingle, had his chest rising and falling a little bit faster as he looked back at Victor watching him. “Do what you like until I say, just keep looking at me.” 

And it sounded like Victor truly _wanted_ Yuuri to look at him, to see the control in his eyes and the power in his frame that ran invisible hands up and down Yuuri’s body to set him on fire. 

So Yuuri felt his body slowly go crazy, felt the rush as they stared each other down over the course of a few silent minutes, and if this is what Victor wanted then it was working. Because it didn’t take long for Yuuri to start squirming this time, his body was so tired it already had a mind of its own.

He could only look right back at Victor as he grew more flustered, his breathing rushed, his abs flexing under his skin with each clench of his stomach as the heat pooled in his gut. 

It was automatic, the way his hands found his skin, roving down from his chest over his stomach to his briefs. Yuuri didn’t even think about what he was doing, didn’t think about how it would look as he opened his legs to pull at the muscles of his inner thighs to tease himself. He just needed to be rid of this increasingly uncomfortable feeling seizing his body. 

He was already hard, dick pressing against the black fabric of his briefs, his length outlined by the way he pressed the material down to give himself some pressure to roll his hips into. 

“Take them off.” Victor suggested then as he looked down at Yuuri’s struggle, and Yuuri was following that suggestion before Victor had even finished speaking, it was crazy because in the back of his head Yuuri had been waiting for that cue, that small push over the edge. 

He’d kicked them off the end of his feet in seconds, left the black briefs in the middle of the bed forgotten as his dick begged for attention, and he was already _hoping_ like hell that Victor wasn’t going to put him through his paces like last time, because he wasn’t going to last at all.

“What a view.” Victor drawled, and Yuuri could drown in that sound right now, plunge head first into those cold eyes looking at him so he could cool down. 

Yuuri still hadn’t looked away, didn’t understand why he _couldn’t_. So he was locking eyes with Victor as he wrapped his fingers around his length, as he thumbed at the head before he pulled down to draw a groan from his own throat. 

“Better than ringside seats.” Victor huffed to himself, this half chuckle half heat filled thing that had Yuuri gripping himself tighter. “You really are a sight to see, Yuuri.” 

He didn’t care about that right now, all Yuuri cared about was the fact that Victor was watching. He cared about the pressure building up in his body, the friction his hand was giving him, the lewd sounds of the rapid movement and the quiet whimpers escaping his mouth.

“Stop.” came the one single word that shattered the last of Yuuri’s inhibitions.

It physically _pained_ him to do just that, to take his hands off himself. All he could do was spread his legs further and dig his toes into the sheets to give himself some sort of purchase as he rut against nothing but air. 

“Victor, please.” this was automatic too, this beg of Victor’s name that rolled off his tongue, the whimper as Yuuri pleaded with him not to do this again.

“Oh? Please what?” Victor smirked, tilting his head this wicked angle to feign ignorance to Yuuri’s plight. 

If Yuuri was in his right state of mind he would have sooner bitten his own tongue, he’d sooner have dug a hole and buried himself in it than to say what he was about to, it didn’t stop him from growing further flustered now though, embarrassed and shy on top of it all.

“N-not like last time.” Yuuri huffed, “Please. Let me come.” he knew he was mumbling it all the same, trying to hide how desperate he already was.

“Why should I? The shows just getting started, Yuuri.” came the taunting quip, this all knowing sound that had Yuuri right where Victor wanted him to be once again.

And Yuuri was _growling_ now, because he’d walked right into it, taken every bit of bait Victor had fed him, so here he was desperate for the final piece, but if he wanted it he was going to have to swallow a tiny bit of pride as well. 

“Because I _can’t_ , Victor, I’m tired.” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a whine, but it was, it was pathetic and needy and Yuuri didn’t care, because Victor was laughing all over again and there was something about that sound. 

“I’m sure you said you were fine.” Victor countered then, finger back to his lip like he was remembering the exact moment in the hall earlier. Victor’s gold ring glimmered in the light like this echo of Victor’s triumph. 

Yuuri’s fists were bunched in the covers now, pulling at the soft Egyptian cotton in ultimate frustration because he’d _lost_ this one, Victor had it right from the start. Yuuri hated losing, and it looked very much like Victor liked winning.

The soft touch of the sheets, the pressure of the headboard against his back, the way it all seemed to cradle his body as Yuuri fidgeted and wiggled, it was all driving him further up the wall with their mocking efforts of touching him. 

“You were right.” Yuuri grit out through his teeth, breathless and burning with want and stubborn will as he admitted the fact. “Victor, please.” 

Victor leant forward in his chair then, this self satisfied pull at the corner of his lip, his eyes alight as he looked at Yuuri anew. He seemed so much closer with that one small tilt of his body, like he was right there, making Yuuri tremble all the more because he couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” came the ridiculous question that Yuuri was never going to answer, because it _was_ hard. He was so fucking hard and all he wanted was to finish himself or be given one more thing just to able to come untouched. Yuuri had no doubt Victor could make him do it that way, too.

“Just so you know, Yuuri,” Victor continued then, this rich flow of words that only served to wind Yuuri up further, have him gripping at the sheets tighter, “All you need to do is ask, and I’ll give you anything you want.” 

He was definitely too far gone to think about what that really meant, all he knew was what it meant right now, his hand was already moving back to himself before he’d even asked.

“I want to come, please.” Yuuri could already feel the rush of pleasure starting, could feel his body lose total control as he fucked his own hand, one hand still holding on for his life in the sheets.

“Go ahead, then, show me how beautiful you are when you fall apart.” came Victor’s last gentle coax, and that’s exactly what did it for Yuuri, that sultry praise.

It was escaping Victor’s eyes at last as he threw his head back against the padded headboard, as his mouth hung open in this silent scream as pleasure took over his body from head to toe. He felt the warmth spurt on his chest, felt it spill into his hand, in between his fingers and down his length, and it only made it feel better, only had him gasping as his body shuddered and surrendered to the high.

It was as he lay there trying to recover that he realised how fast that was, how empty his tank had already been before getting here, how utterly spent he was now as he tried to catch his breath.

And like before, Victor was there standing at the bedside with his glasses, looking down at Yuuri to check him over with something earnest that Yuuri could see as he put them on his face.

“How are you feeling?”and it was Victor who was the one asking now, and this was a real question, genuine and soft with concern. Yuuri was never going to figure this out.

All Yuuri could do was laugh to himself then, still closer to delirium than sense as his mouth ran away from him again, he’d been having trouble sleeping because of this, and yet this was going to be the thing that would have him sleeping like the dead tonight. 

“Like I could sleep for a week starting right now.” he knew his choice of words was wrong only when it was too late, hadn’t thought about how they sounded as he lay there on Victor’s bed. He was already sitting up and edging to the edge of the bed to make up for it before Victor could say anything in reply. 

“Take your time, Yuuri.” was all Victor said, brushing it off just as Yuuri had. “I’ll wait outside the door in case you need anything.” 

Then he was already walking away, and Yuuri didn’t even get the chance to thank him for bringing him his glasses.

* * *

Yuuri had a cold shower in the pristine white tiled bathroom to wake himself up before getting dressed, and as he dried himself off on a ridiculously plush towel, actual dread began to set in. 

So he did take his time, because he _almost_ didn’t want to go back out there to the awkward moment that waited for him. He put his clothes on slowly as he tried to think about how he was going to deal with it this time, as he fought the fact that he was going to have to swallow his pride here again of all places.

He couldn’t stay in Victor’s bedroom forever, couldn’t fret and panic because he had to accept that the reality of this arrangement meant that he was going to have to do this every time. Maybe he should start looking at come back fights soon because this part wouldn’t get any easier.

Before he could simmer over it even more, Yuuri had forced himself to the door with his things, made himself open it and step out to find Victor leaning against the wall in the hallway. He was the opposite to what Yuuri felt, he looked relaxed as his thumb tapped away at his phone, full of poise and casual grace. 

“Everything okay?” Victor’s eyes sought him out instantly as pocketed his phone.

This was the part that Yuuri wanted over and done with the most, at least with an online server hosting the webcam shows it mean that payment went to them and they in turn paid Yuuri. That wasn’t the case anymore.

“Ah yeah, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Yuuri lied again this time too, “I… just want to get home.”

They’d made it to the foyer, and Victor was standing close, watching Yuuri’s every word, looking down at Yuuri with the same pinched brows and clenched jaw as before.

“Do you need me to take you?” Victor was pressing the question now, pressing Yuuri for honesty, and it was the question that caught Yuuri completely off guard.

“No no no no! It’s fine!” Yuuri sputtered, “My place isn’t far at all. It’s not that.” 

It was asking for money that had Yuuri loathing this, he couldn’t expect Victor to be as good about it as last time, couldn’t expect him to put up with Yuuri skirting around it like this.

Victor just took one last look at his face before he sighed like this hurt him just as much as it hurt Yuuri to be in this spot, but then he pulled out his phone to offer it to Yuuri.

“It’s easier for me to do transactions online, you can give me your bank details if you want.” 

And Yuuri’s head spun, because this was beyond his expectations again, this level of careful consideration to make sure he really was okay. Maybe Victor was actually just a nice person. There was no reason for him to treat Yuuri like this.

He couldn’t say anything, he just tapped the account number and bank into the notes app and handed the phone back, feeling this instantaneous sense of relief as he realised this problem had been taken off his hands too. 

“Thanks.” Yuuri sighed as they stood there in the foyer, closer than they’d stood when he first got here. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Yuuri. Just check your account in the morning to make sure it’s there.” Victor was laughing at him again, laughing because Yuuri had been the one naked on the bed, Yuuri was the one who’d come here to give Victor a show, they both knew thanks should be the other way around.

That was about more than Yuuri could take for the day, he stood there blushing as Victor kept laughing, as he pulled a business card out of his pocket and slid it in the front pocket of Yuuri’s jeans in turn.

Victor was closer now, looming as he took in the pink of Yuuri’s cheeks, the pout on his lips. This _was_ close to the edge, because Victor’s finger did that thing where it ran up this tiny stretch of his leg as Victor pulled his fingers out of the pocket.

But he stepped back out of Yuuri’s space before Yuuri could step back himself, he put the right distance between them as it all came to a close. “If you can’t make it, if you’re going to be late or you’re _tired_ , all you need to do is message me on that number.” 

With every conversation he was getting further and further away from understanding this person. “Ah, okay.”

“Good, then I’ll see you Friday?” and he was still asking, still making sure that Yuuri would be coming next time.

“Yeah, see you then.” Yuuri knew he wouldn’t have to think about it this time. 

The smile Victor offered him then was too charming, too suave and handsome for Yuuri to handle, so he took it upon himself to finally leave, to open the door and step out of Victor’s apartment. 

“Look after yourself, Yuuri.” was the last thing he heard before the door shut behind him.

* * *

It was the next morning, and Yuuri had slept in, his second morning alarm was screaming on his bedside table, vibrating across the surface as it begged to be smashed or put on snooze or anything to make it shut up. 

The call of his own bed last night had been too strong, so he’d come straight to his apartment to fall face first into his pillows and sleep like the dead as he said he would. Phichit would understand, he always did when it came to Yuuri and his love of sleep. 

His phone kept screeching as Yuuri’s mind flashed back to last night, the last two days and why he was tired enough to fall asleep on top of his covers fully clothed. That’s when it hit him that it was this morning already, that he needed to check his account because what if Victor hadn’t paid him at all? He hadn’t thought about that option at all last night.

With well honed precision he snatched his phone from his bedside moments before it could vibrate itself off the edge.

It was a struggle to scramble for his glasses as well, a pain to squint against the bright light of the tiny screen as he unlocked it and turned the alarm off. Then it was logging onto the banking app to check his account for the most recent transaction. 

“Eh?” 

That couldn’t be right. Yuuri pulled the phone closer to his face to double check, he checked with and without his glasses. He logged out and then back in again.

The transaction was most definitely there. It read _V Nikiforov_ and the + sign for money into his account.

It read _’Thank you’_ in the payer’s notes, and it also read more money in one transaction than what Victor had paid him over the last four months combined. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Nickie for your help with this chapter <3 I would have thrown in the towel otherwise.

Maybe it was too early for this. Maybe Yuuri needed to wake up a little more, be a little less bleary eyed before he believed the amount of money that went into his account overnight was real. 

He thought about throwing his phone down, setting his alarm again so he could snooze for 10 more minutes and then wake up to something normal instead. 

Nope, he was too anxious for that, so he rolled around in bed and checked a few more times. Yuuri logged out of the banking app, then back in, the amount stayed the same. So here he was, a grown man and an accomplished mixed martial artist, flailing in his bed as he came up with a blank on what he should do. If he was confused about Victor’s intentions before, now he had no idea. 

The only thing Yuuri could think as his mind flailed with him was that surely it must be a mistake, mistakes _happened_ , even if Victor looked like the kind of person who’d never made a mistake in his life.

And, Yuuri being Yuuri, couldn't let something like this go unfixed for any longer than necessary, he didn’t need that much money, and he’d _hate_ if anyone thought that he’d take that much money too. It was probably way too rude of him, too brash to call Victor at this time of morning when the sun wasn't even up. He'd put the number in his phone last night before bed, looked at the glossy black business card with the same gold eagle as his embossed on the back that just said _Victor Nikiforov_ and his cellphone number. What sort of business card was that? 

Speculation was useless right now, he'd hit the dial button without hesitation as he got out of bed and paced in his room, heart racing as he thought of how he was going to say this.

It didn’t even ring twice before the call went through, maybe Yuuri should have taken a little longer to gather himself for another conversation with Victor. 

_”Nikiforov speaking.”_

Yuuri stopped at the cold, impersonal tone, the tone of someone who didn’t care to be bothered without reason, it was sharp and threatening, and Yuuri thought he just might hang up instead. If that commanding tone hadn’t greeted him with ‘Nikiforov speaking’, then Yuuri would have thought it was someone else entirely. 

Then, the cacophony of background noises hit him, men shouting in thick Russian with a harsh tongue that Yuuri didn’t understand, some words sounded like _orders_ and others definitely sounded like obedience. There was the unmistakable whine of an aviation engine firing up and the slow beat of helicopter blades turning, it all assaulted him until it abruptly cut off with the sound of a closing door. Maybe he was still dreaming after all.

Yuuri stood dumb struck in the middle of his bedroom floor, anything he’d been about to say, any words he’d formulated were gone. He’d wanted to be clear and concise, it wasn’t going to happen now. 

“Ah, Victor…. Sorry for calling you so early.” and that was all he could come up with now, Yuuri cringed at how hesitant he sounded even to his own ears.

 _”Yuuri.”_ Victor said his name in one quick breath, something sincere and _personal_. And it was crazy because Yuuri knew the exact look on Victor’s face right now, searching blue eyes and soft concern, that same look when Victor thought Yuuri still might turn around and walk the other way at the front door. _”Is something wrong?”_

The question left Yuuri reeling, because it was real and cautious and nothing like the person who answered the phone as ‘Nikiforov’.

“I think there was a mistake with the transaction last night” Yuuri got it over and done with, blurting it out all in one go and before he started pacing again as he took a proper breath. 

_”How so?”_ the answer was carefully blank, and Yuuri’s stomach sunk, it sounded like it wasn’t a mistake at all. So now he needed to clear this up and find out what Victor was playing at with all that money.

“It’s not the agreed amount, it’s way too much.” it felt good to say that, good to let Victor know he wasn’t trying to cheat him out of more.

 _“It’s not.”_ Victor’s stated, serious.

“N-not what?” Yuuri shot back, because he didn’t know what part of what he said that Victor was even replying to. 

_”Too much.”_ came the immediate reply, smooth and confident and now Yuuri was sure Victor knew exactly how much he’d put in.

“What is it then?” no matter how hard he tried Yuuri couldn’t connect any dots. So he was left with asking yet another question. He already had too many when it came to Victor. 

Yuuri felt relieved and unnerved at the same time, because if it wasn’t a mistake then what was Victor trying to accomplish by giving him _so much_ money?

The pause on the other end was heavy, a silence that bid him to brace himself and Yuuri knew he'd already walked right in to whatever Victor had to say next.

_"It's payment in advance."_

Yuuri stopped pacing again, dead still with the phone at his ear, they’d never discussed anything about a set amount of time, never discussed locking him like some job _contract_ , and maybe this was Victor’s intention all along. 

And out of all the things Yuuri could have felt right then, the first thing to hit him was disappointment, because the nice guy theory that Yuuri was building was now on shaky ground. It rubbed him so far up the wrong way, the manipulation of his time when all Victor needed to do was _ask_. Of course Yuuri would have preferred something long term too, he didn’t know when he’d step in the ring again to start making proper money, but he would have also preferred to have a say about it.

The quiet stretched out as Yuuri desperately tried to think, he didn’t even know how long passed by until he realised that Victor hadn’t said another word more. He was waiting for Yuuri _again_ , letting Yuuri think in his own time like he’d done so before, not pushing any further at all. 

Yuuri thought about all those honest looks he’d seen, the worry when he turned up tired on Wednesday night, the genuine earnestness when Victor told him _’just like usual’_ to put him at ease, Victor bringing him his glasses, letting him shower, offering to drive him home, there was no way that could be fake. Yuuri wasn’t _that_ bad at reading people.

But he realised he couldn’t even find an answer, all he was doing was opening and closing his mouth without a sound coming out, he couldn’t just say _nothing._

_”Is that okay?”_ Victor prompted then amidst the suspense, and it sounded _just_ like when he asked if he’d see Yuuri again, a question that Yuuri knew he was free to say no to. It was crazy that Yuuri already knew he didn’t want to say no at all, he had too many questions to quit now. 

“How long in advance?” he asked instead, because it would be that answer that was make or break for him, how long Victor thought he could get away with buying Yuuri’s time.

 _”However long you want, Yuuri.”_ and _oh_ , there was that honesty again, smooth, charming, way too suave as his name rolled off Victor’s tongue. 

Yuuri needed to sit down after all, overwhelmed as the situation did a full one eighty and turned the other way around. Just like that Victor had given Yuuri full control of this messed up arrangement, put him even more at ease with this whole situation that could be a lot more uncomfortable if it wasn’t thanks to Victor who seemed to read him like an open book time and time again. 

Yuuri threw himself down on his wrinkled bed covers, hid his face in his pillows to leave Victor waiting because he was flailing in confusion yet again. How could someone who paid for camboy shows and then real life shows be this considerate, weren’t they just in it for their own entertainment? Victor was the one paying for it, he didn’t need to go out of his way like this. With each conversation they had Yuuri was further away from figuring Victor out.

“Ok.” Yuuri eventually breathed with his mind made up, relieved of all things that he wasn’t going to have to give up his means of proper income, that he didn’t have to worry about it week by week, that he had someone like Victor despite his lame username ‘Sharpshooter’ and not some axe murderer instead. 

And most of all, it meant that nice guy image was still intact, because only now did Yuuri realize that it would be so hard to do what he was doing for an asshole or an arrogant rich man. From that first private camboy show, Victor had been that nice guy who’d never said disgusting things or asked for more than he was paying for. In short, Yuuri was fucking lucky to have an exclusive patron like him. 

There was a small pleased hum on the other end that Yuuri was sure he was imagining, it was too early for the hairs on his skin to be standing on end too, it seemed like Yuuri was already tuned to the sound of Victor’s voice. 

_“Ah, that’s good, I’m glad.”_ that tone was back to being smooth and level, businesslike despite the heat. 

It was twiddling his toes then as Yuuri thought of what to say, racking his brain because his immediate concerns had all been sorted in the span of a few minutes on the phone, and he had no idea what to say now. Closing conversations had never been Yuuri’s forte. 

_”Are you alright this morning? You were rather worn out last night, Yuuri.”_ Victor bridged the gap instead with another question about his well being, and what was Yuuri meant to say now after the fact? After Victor made Yuuri show him just how tired he was? He’d slept well last night at least.

“Oh, um. I’m fine thank you. You don’t need to worry about me.” Yuuri spluttered it out, sitting up on the bed in a flash. The last thing Yuuri wanted was to trouble Victor or make it difficult, he was the one paying money after all.

 _”… Is that so? Okay then.”_ and this time Victor’s tone was carefully blank, not giving Yuuri anything to go by at all, but he knew the end of a conversation when he heard it, a dismissal. _”I’m going to work now, I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuuri.”_

This time it wasn’t worded as a question if they’d see each other again, the next time was now confirmed until however long Yuuri decided it wasn’t.

“Yeah, see you then.” it was so easy to reply now that they didn’t need to skirt around that next time, easy to reply with certainty rather than hesitation. And it must have showed in his voice, because he got that pleased hum again before Victor simply drawled:

 _”I’m looking forward to it.”_

Yuuri didn’t get a word in after that, he was too busy biting his lip and trying to still his heart, because every single word Victor said with his last sentence was an implication, a warning that he was going to make Yuuri work for his money. It was a _teaser_ of the voice he used when he sat in that chair and looked at Yuuri with his unrelenting gaze, and Yuuri didn’t find it bad in the slightest. 

It wasn’t until Victor hung up, until the dial tone beeped in his ear and the heat was gone from his cheeks that Yuuri wondered what sort of work Victor was doing with helicopters and earlier mornings than him involved. 

* * *

His morning schedule always ran tight, his alarm was always set for maximum sleep and minimum time getting ready at such an early hour. Normally, he threw his training gear on and ate a pre prepared breakfast if he wasn’t running to the gym, and then he was out the door.

He wasn’t even close to being ready this morning though, still stunned from the fright in his account, a million more questions and half dressed with an empty stomach, it was then that someone knocked on his door at the bright and early time of 5:50am. 

Yuuri knew it could only be one person. So he shuffled to his front door through his still dark apartment, barefoot and bare chested with his phone still in hand and opened the door without saying a word.

Phichit greeted him with a too bright morning smile like he always did when they had early morning sessions together, and Yuuri could never understand how anyone could be so happy at this stupid time of day, yet Phichit always was, it was at night that Phichit got grumpy and tired. 

“Yuuri! You’re not ready yet?! We’re meant to be going over grapple work this morning remember.” Phichit laughed nonetheless, because he was early just like usual too.

“Ah, yeah. Something came up, sorry.” Yuuri scratched his head as he shifted on his feet, fidgeting, of course Phichit was going to want to know all about last night and then this morning.

Phichit eyes lit right up at the prospect of new information, “Something happen with that Victor guy last night?” 

“Last night, this morning, take your pick.” and Yuuri didn’t even know where to start. So all he did as he stood there at the door was open the bank app on his phone again, bring up the transaction that said _’Thank you.’_ with Victor’s name next to it, and then shove it in Phichit’s face for his friend to see for himself. 

Phichit’s eyes narrowed to take in the information on the screen, and then promptly blew out wide as his jaw dropped to the floor at the amount. The fact that it surprised even Phichit really said something.

“Woah!” 

“That’s what I said.” Yuuri groaned his confusion now that he had someone who would listen, closed the app and then shoved the phone in his pocket before beckoning Phichit in so he could finished getting ready. Celestino would kick their asses if they were late. 

“Aaaand?” Phichit prompted then as he followed Yuuri through his apartment back to his bedroom where he finished getting changed.

“I called him this morning.” Yuuri pulled a shirt on over his head before grabbing his gym bag, “Payment in advance apparently.”

“Wait, what? You have his number now?” it was Phichit’s turn to stand dumbfounded in the middle of Yuuri’s floor. “Back it up. Start from last night and tell me everything.”

* * *

So Yuuri led Phichit back out of his room and to the kitchen where he wolfed down his breakfast in between telling Phichit everything about last night. 

It was always to easy to talk with Phichit, because once again he listened without saying a word, carrying a pensive look on his face through Yuuri’s entire process of thinking out loud.

They’d crossed the line long ago of not being able to tell each other certain things, there was no such thing as too much information when it came down to it, so Yuuri left nothing out.

He told Phichit how Victor had picked up on his tiredness, he also told Phichit exactly how he made Yuuri admit he was tired. It was only through his recollecting now that Yuuri found himself hung up on yet another thing Victor had said. _’All you need to do is ask, and I’ll give you anything you want.’_

And that didn’t sound like it had anything to do with their arrangement at all, shouldn’t it be Yuuri giving, _showing_ , Victor anything he wanted? All Phichit did when Yuuri told him about that particular line was let out this low whistle and sit back on the kitchen barstool.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it now though, but Yuuri kept it in the back of his mind even as he told Phichit the rest, about the offer of a ride home, the consideration on Victor’s face when he asked for Yuuri’s account number, what Victor said when he gave Yuuri his business card. _’If you can’t make it, if you’re going to be late or you’re tired, all you need to do is message me on that number.’_

If it was anyone else, Yuuri was sure he’d never remember the words so clearly, but Victor’s voice wasn’t something so easily forgotten, he had no trouble recalling every word.

Yuuri was on his last mouthfuls of breakfast when he got to what happened this morning, and with every single thing Yuuri said, Phichit’s mischievous smile only grew. Phichit had clearly caught onto something that Yuuri hadn’t, and Yuuri wasn’t sure from that look on Phichit’s face that he wanted to know what it was.

Spoon in hand with the last of his oats in the plastic meal prep container, Yuuri trailed off as he finally finished talking.

“He wants to be your daddy.” Phichit gave Yuuri no time, he said it then and there with a teasing look on his face, no holds barred.

“Phi-phichit!” and Yuuri was so stunned, hot in the face and flustered that he dropped the last of his food, container clattering on the stone countertop, spoon clinking down after it with a splatter of oats over the dark surface. “Nononono, you’re wrong.”

And Phichit was already cackling at the mess, at Yuuri’s face, at the colour in Yuuri’s cheeks. “Believe what you want, Yuuri. I’m sure he thinks if he can’t have you then this is the next best thing.”

“Phichit, I’ve only met him _twice._ ” Yuuri countered, shaking his head at all the implications, because the thought of having a sugar daddy mortified him to no end, and yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake it from his mind now that Phichit had gone and opened his mouth. He was never going to look at this arrangement with Victor same way again. 

His best friend was still laughing though, cleaning up the last bit of breakfast that Yuuri didn’t get to eat, so laid back with everything life might throw at either of them.

“Yeah, but he’s been paying to see you for _four_ months knowing full well who you are even if you never showed your face.” Phichit was poking Yuuri in the ribs now, finger sharp and in just the right spot to make Yuuri jump.

It was the jolt Yuuri needed at least, only so he could groan yet again at Phichit’s weird conclusions and at the loss of his last mouthful of food.

“Phichit, I’m telling you, he only wants a show.” Yuuri _tried_ to convince Phichit anyway, because even though Yuuri told Phichit everything, nothing could describe the look in Victor’s eyes when he looked at Yuuri’s body, when his azure gaze traveled up and down Yuuri’s height in quiet assessment. 

There was no mistaking that look, of course Victor liked Yuuri’s body, but that was it. 

“Yuuri, sometimes you can be so dense.” Phichit deadpanned, “He said he’d give you anything you want. He wants to spoil you.” 

Yuuri hastily cleaned up his dishes, shaking his head all the while, they needed to leave in the next few minutes or they _were_ going to be late.

“He doesn’t! He’s just trying to make it more convenient for us both.” Yuuri sighed at the end, because Phichit had his mind made up, if there was one person more stubborn and unyielding than Yuuri, it was Phichit. 

It seemed like Phichit was going to leave it alone for now though, because he let Yuuri pick up his bag and put on his shoes without saying another word. They were nearly at the front door, Yuuri was reaching out for the handle and it was then that Phichit finally said something again.

“Just try calling him daddy once, I bet he'll lose it.” 

Yuuri staggered at the door, rounding on Phichit behind him to find a dirty smirk on his friend's face. 

“Oh my god, Phichit, no.” it was Yuuri’s turn to deadpan now, he knew the exact mood Phichit was in, and Yuuri wasn’t going to have a bar of it.

“Oh my god, Phichit, yes.” Phichit teased again, his teeth showing through his sly smile.

“No way.” Yuuri shot back, turning red even at the thought of it. Yuuri would rather skip breakfast for a month.

“If you say so.” Phichit just shrugged, eyes glinting in the dim light before he pushed passed Yuuri to open the front door, he’d only taken one step out into the hallway outside before he turned around.

Phichit stood there, and Yuuri could see he was coiled tense, body ready like only a trained fighter’s could be, Yuuri knew something was coming, he just didn’t know what. 

With his breath held, own body ready, Yuuri waited for whatever trick Phichit was going to play.

“ _Daddy._ ” Phichit whispered softly, and then, he was running.

Oh no he just didn't. 

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” Yuuri declared before he chased Phichit down the hall where they took the stairwell instead of the elevator, feet featherlight and _fast_ as they took the steps in twos. 

“That’s the Katsuki Yuuri everyone loves to see.” Phichit yelled from the flight of stairs below him, over the railing Yuuri could see Phichit’s triumphant grin, the sparkle in his eye.

Yuuri laughed despite himself, despite the breakfast heavy in his stomach, and ran down the stairs after his best friend.

"You made me waste food!" 

"What are you gonna do? Tell your daddy about it?!" Phichit was already on the last flight of stairs, cackling again as he opened the door that lead to the foyer and entrance of the building.

"Phichit!" Yuuri growled this time as he caught the heavy door before it could shut itself, "You're a dead man!"

All Phichit did was laugh even louder before they made it outside onto the footpath, buildings towered all above them in the light of dawn, there were people with misty breath on the sidewalk going to work early, and Phichit had already taken off at a sprint.

They weren’t meant to run to the gym this morning, but Yuuri chased Phichit the entire way, with their speed they weren’t late after all, and as promised Yuuri kicked Phichit’s ass during their sparring matches that day.

* * *

Yuuri slept like the dead on Thursday night too, the arrangement with Victor wasn’t going to change anytime soon, so like an actual adult he’d convinced himself he needed to get used to it so he didn’t lose any more sleep. 

And now it was Friday evening already, he’d trained, coached Minami, trained again and _tried_ to avoid the growing anticipation in his gut as he went home and showered. 

However the whole day had been one big wind up, Phichit whispered ‘Daddy’ in his ear whenever they came close enough in the gym, and when he wasn’t actually sparring or moving his body Yuuri spent the time flustered because he couldn’t get the last words of his conversation with Victor out of his head. 

‘I’m looking forward to it.’ 

All day he’d wanted to know what Victor was looking forward to, what Victor might have in store, because Yuuri had done so much more on camera than just jerk himself off. Victor’s written instructions in their private chat had been thorough, Yuuri never thought he’d make himself moan, make himself feel _that_ good, make himself fall apart just with this fingers, and Victor had proven him wrong time and again with only words on a screen. 

He’d come to the conclusion that _hearing_ Victor tell him to do all those things, feeling Victor’s eyes on his skin, laying on that soft bed while Victor sat with his legs crossed in that black leather chair was going to be like doing those things for the first time all over again.

To put it simply, Yuuri had worked himself up into a state before he’d even made it to Victor’s front door.

But he’d had enough of hesitating, of feeling flighty and anxious over something that was his own decision, overthinking was Yuuri’s biggest problem, and it was embarrassing to show that kind of face to someone like Victor. 

With stubborn resolve he swallowed it down, relied on his biggest strength of hard headedness and set himself firm. There was no hesitating or second guessing at the door this time, Yuuri knocked with a firm hand and felt good about it, _confident_ because he knew this process was going to be so much easier from now on.

That white door with the gold numbers opened within the space of a few breaths, opened to reveal Victor the same as he’d been both times before. It was the same fitted black dress slacks, the same white collared shirt with the buttons undone all the way to the chest, the same powerful shoulders and flawless posture, confidence from head to toe. 

The same thoughts of how ridiculously hot Victor was hit him yet again, Yuuri could get used to the face to face shows, probably, but there was no way he’d get used to Victor himself, because he looked at Victor’s face last, met those deep blue eyes and got lost in an instant. 

Narrowed pupils did that same roving assessment of Yuuri’s body, checked the merchandise thoroughly in appraisal, his legs, his body, his arms and shoulders, every inch before Victor looked Yuuri in the eye to set Yuuri to preemptive burning. 

Scrutinizing of this kind wasn’t anything that Yuuri was used to at all, his body was a weapon to earn the prize, the title belt, his income that paid bills, being looked at like he _was_ the prize was… surprisingly assuring.

Expression hot, smile only the slightest bit challenging, Victor simply stepped back this time like he’d known exactly what Yuuri was thinking and found it to his liking.

“Come in.” he started with that voice straight away, heated and in control, Yuuri wrestled down a shiver, it was too soon for this reaction.

They both knew there was no need to make sure Yuuri wanted to be here or not anymore, so it was silent after that, this anticipating quiet as Yuuri kicked his shoes off and then made his way down the marble floor hall into the spacious bedroom at the end.

It was the same then too, a double take at the the pure size and grandeur of it all, the enormous bed, the even bigger window that displayed a view of the whole sparkling city, it was putting his back pack and glasses down and feeling his heart rate speed up because he knew Victor was watching _every_ move.

The show had already begun.

Throwing preamble to the wind was easier this time, because if Yuuri had confidence in anything at all, it was his body, he worked hard to maintain his condition, trained endlessly for his strong legs and flexibility, if Victor actually _liked_ it for some crazy reason, then Yuuri would do his job and give him a show.

Yuuri moved before Victor could even open his mouth to say ‘just like usual’, flustering himself further because there was this keen amusement in Victor’s eyes as he settled himself in that black leather chair and clasped his fingers together in his lap, that gold ring on his knuckle shining with the promise of wealth. 

He was already unzipping his jersey before he got to the side of the bed, pulling his shirt off and letting it all fall to the floor, the caress of Victor’s eyes on his upper body this electric pulse on his skin, palpable and _heavy_.

Yuuri must have a thing for exhibitionism after all, because he hadn’t taken his jeans off yet, hadn’t even made it onto the bed, hadn’t even started to touch himself, but with Victor relentless in the attention he paid Yuuri, the heat already churned in his groin. 

People looked at Yuuri all the time, coaches judged his form, his movement, opponents gauged his speed and power, it was part of his every day life, but never before had Yuuri realised that having someone _look_ at him could be so invasive, so provoking and thrilling. 

Chest rising and falling a little faster already, body knowing all too well what was coming, there was no hiding the shape of his length pressing against the denim of his too tight jeans. Betrayed by his own body of all things. 

Feet firm on the plush carpet next to the bed, it was stubborn courage that had him meeting Victor’s eyes as he palmed himself through the thick fabric, feelings his nerves light up with the growing pressure. 

Black pupils expanded into something wild for a split second, surprise and then sultry approval as Victor’s lip curled into a smirk, and there was _something_ about that particular expression that Yuuri made Yuuri want to see it again.

“Oh? It seems like you were looking forward to this too.” Victor teased, each word easy off Victor’s tongue, his smooth tone coming from a place of power and self assuredness that Yuuri would never have. 

“Who doesn’t look forward to Fridays?” Yuuri could only huff back with half of the control that Victor had, he returned the smirk though, because even he could sass when he wanted to. It did normally happen when he wasn’t thinking straight, when he was drunk, or tired, or both, right now he wasn’t thinking straight at all. “Everyone… wants to unwind for the weekend.”

The promise simmering in Victor’s eyes flared right on that word ‘want’, and Yuuri knew he’d done it then, given Victor cause to let loose with his tongue and turn him into a mess with words. 

“Don’t worry, Yuuri, I’ll be sure to give you everything what you want.” Victor guaranteed it, declared it like everything Yuuri _could_ want was in the palm of his hand, just waiting for Yuuri to ask.

“Take your jeans off slow for me.” it was a drawl, patient, Victor’s head cocked to one side as his eyes moved everywhere all at once, Yuuri had no doubt that Victor never missed a thing.

There was only so long someone could take actually taking off their jeans, Yuuri had never made a show of it before, he’d never been patient enough because wrestling his jeans off already took long enough as it was. 

Yuuri was hardwired all wrong for a strip tease, his body didn’t know how to move in that sort of way, _trying_ to be sexy or seductive wasn’t something in his resume of black belts and title fights. So he did what he always did, slowed the movements right down, every action deliberate as he undid his buttons and pulled the zip down with a dull buzz of the the zipper moving. 

Peeling off tight denim was next, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops at his hips and pulling as he wiggled to get the stiff denim over his ass, it didn’t help they were fresh out of the wash and extra fitting today.

“Do you know how filthy you look when you move like that, Yuuri?” the question was burning hot, weighted with praise and approval as Victor followed the movement of Yuuri’s hips moving to get the jeans down. 

This time, Yuuri bit his lip instead, stifled the on coming groan that wanted to beg for more approval, because that’s when Victor’s voice sounded the best. When it was all honey and fire, all directed at him. 

The jeans came off after a few more wiggles, pulled off his legs one by one until they were left on the floor with everything else he’d taken off. He was left standing there, waiting on his next instructions in his briefs only, stance as relaxed as he could be with Victor’s eyes provoking him like they were. 

“Briefs too,” came the next prompt, “then get on the bed for me.”

With his briefs the final layer came off, they fell to the floor and there was no hiding his free standing erection now, Yuuri was well hung for someone of his height. There was no hiding his flushed chest, pink cheeks and fast breath, Victor took it all in and hummed like this was the best part of the show. 

He’d been too distracted already, too much under a spell of whatever the hell this was to notice the bed properly this time, to notice that there was something on the otherwise flawless white surface of the covers. Now that he was closer, now that he was actually climbing onto the firm mattress on his knees, Yuuri could quite clearly see a small tube of lube near the foot of the bed that was undoubtedly meant for him.

That was enough to get his heart thumping full strength, tension coiling in his groin as he paused with it at his knees, this was the closest he’d been to Victor so far, kneeling at the end of the bed, a handful of steps away from where Victor sat.

It was clearly new, the tiny clear bottle full and unused, bought _for_ him, and Yuuri had been so damn dense not to think about this sort of thing, everything he needed had been within arms reach when he was at home on his bed in front of the camera, lube and his minimal collection of toys. 

Once again Victor had gone out of his way to make sure Yuuri was comfortable, to make sure he had everything he needed because Yuuri was too stupid to make sure of it himself. 

He looked up to find Victor surveying his reaction, gauging his thoughts, reading Yuuri all too well with his hard eyes suddenly turned soft like he was hoping this wasn’t too much, hoping he wasn’t pushing Yuuri too far. 

“Is this okay with you?” it was whisper soft, this hushed secret all the way up here in the master bedroom of a high class apartment, terrifyingly intimate as Victor searched Yuuri’s face for an answer. 

This distance just to happened to be where Yuuri’s eyes worked the best, when he didn’t need to strain to see things just that little bit too far away. Lip still trapped in his teeth, breath stuck between his heart and his throat, Yuuri saw the exact moment Victor turned the heat back on when he gave Victor a wordless nod.

“Unwind for me, Yuuri." And it wasn’t so soft this time, a sound that had an edge that bit into Yuuri’s skin, that set Yuuri on the right sort of edge. 

One breath, then two, already Yuuri couldn’t calm down, sitting on his knees, spread apart as far as they’d go on the mattress, holding Victor’s gaze at this distance was impossible. 

The closer you were to the fire, the hotter it was, the faster it took to melt, and Yuuri did just that all on his own, Victor silent while Yuuri’s hands worked over his body, pinching at his nipple, running his other hand down and gripping that soft skin at the join of his groin and thigh.

It was too easy to wind himself up instead, to make himself _ache_ and want relief from this growing tension weighing heavy on his shoulders. 

“If only you could see yourself.” Victor was all taunt and tease, “How good you look working yourself up on my bed.” 

That was when his lips wouldn’t hold the noises in anymore, when the first gasp escaped because of _praise_ of all things. That’s what had Yuuri grinding at thin air, digging his fingers into the skin of his own ass, pulling himself apart as he shut his eyes to find respite from the heat. 

“Oh, you like that?” that chuckle was maddening, infuriating because it went straight to his blood that was travelling to his dick, “Who would have thought the formidable Katsuki Yuuri just wanted to be praised?” 

Now that Victor had gone and said it out loud, Yuuri knew it was true, but he also knew not just any old praise would do, it was praise from that _voice_ in particular that did it. 

“Is that what you want, Yuuri?” and _oh_ that question was loaded, that word ‘want’ on the trigger aimed right at Yuuri’s self control.

Victor let him take his time, let him try and fight it, but it was all useless, because the more Yuuri thought about the more he did want it, and Victor had promised him everything after all. 

“Yesss.” Yuuri gave in and hissed, felt his inhibitions crumble a little further, slipped further towards debauchery as he gave a little more control to someone who already had enough.

“Show me something praiseworthy then, and I’ll praise you until you can’t take it anymore.” every word was a challenge, a dare for Yuuri to do his best so Victor could say his worst, it seemed the further Yuuri spiralled the more loose Victor was with his tongue. It was mind boggling to think someone who looked so refined could speak perfect filth. That’s what made it so appealing.

Yuuri was too keen for this, fingers trembling as he took up the tube and popped it open, slicked his fingers up, and his insides were already quivering because he hadn’t done this since his last online session with Victor two weeks ago. 

“Drop it, don’t worry about it.” it was a brisk command then, telling Yuuri not to worry about it spilling, telling him to look after himself instead, and Yuuri obeyed without question. 

Eyes clenched shut, jaw slack, blood on fire, Yuuri reached behind himself and moaned at the cold touch of lube as he slid his fingers down and pressed one inside himself slowly. 

Time was a funny thing, but it seemed to stand still as he worked himself open, one finger curling in deep, then two, and before he knew it Yuuri was grinding back onto his fingers and moaning, urged on by Victor’s soft whispers, telling him to go deeper, to add one more in, to scissor them and drive himself crazy. 

And when he could no longer hold himself up, no longer kneel right there at the end of the bed, Victor had him press his cheek against the mattress facing the window so that Victor had a view from the side, so he could watch the movement of Yuuri’s wrist as he worked his hand, so he could watch the shift in his hips as he rut backwards. 

He’d taken that perfect white bed cover in between his teeth, bit down on it as he groaned and clenched at the sheet with his other hand stretched out to the side, knuckles white, fist trembling. 

“You look so good on your knees like that, Yuuri.” Victor huffed, and in the dark of his closed eyes it felt like Victor was right there, whispering hot antagonising praise in his ear that had Yuuri falling to pieces. 

And it hurt to hear those words, cock heavy in between his legs, untouched and dripping onto the bed, sorely neglected because when he’d tried to touch himself Victor told him ‘not yet.’ 

All he had was his fingers for now, he could _feel_ the scream of frustration in his throat, exactly what Victor wanted. 

Victor was merciless, he pulled Yuuri apart one praise at a time, told him how good he was doing, how fine his noises sounded, how perfectly dirty the wet sounds of his fingers in his ass were. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, when he thought he’d just drop down further and fuck himself against the mattress for friction instead, Victor _finally_ bid him to use his other hand.

He should have known it was a set up, should have known Victor was leading it all up to this point, because the moment his fingers were curled around his cock, cheek flush against the mattress still, eyes shut, other hand still working himself from behind, Victor whispered two simple words that were his complete and utter ruin. 

“Good boy.” 

And that’s when Yuuri _keened_ , curled over on himself as his entire body staggered at those words, coming from the praise more than the hand around his dick, and it was a mistake to open his eyes then, because he saw something that redoubled the pleasure, something sinful and bad and he _knew_ he shouldn’t like this. 

Victor’s eyes _locked_ on him, unwavering and endless, rapt pupils blown wide, thick chest unmoving as Victor held his breath. That would have been enough for him already, but it was Victor’s perfect white teeth pulling on his full bottom lip in frustration that Yuuri liked most, because it was so insanely satisfying to know that he affected Victor in some way, that Victor _did_ like it after all. 

And now he had a hundred and one more questions about what Victor used to do behind a laptop screen, was he even less composed, did he do what every other hot blooded man did and jerk off too? 

Even as he collapsed onto the mattress as he cried out, body all twitches and shot nerves, still coming into his hand, Yuuri knew he wanted to make Victor crack enough to find out. 

* * *

After a few minutes of coming down from that mindless high, after they both caught their breath, Victor brought him a hot cloth, water, and his glasses and gave him time and space to clean up without saying a word. 

Victor’s composure was back, there was no trace of the wildness he’d seen, only silent assessment of Yuuri’s condition as he stood over the bed and checked Yuuri over. Then, he was gone, and Yuuri was left wondering if he’d imagined that slip in Victor’s expression.

Yuuri showered again, dressed slowly, body buzzing with the after effects of feelings so good. That terror of asking for payment was gone, there was no need for him to mess around at the door, no need to trouble Victor with pointless conversation, he could be on his way with the guarantee that he would see Victor after the weekend on Monday. 

Despite it being Friday, he did still have work coaching Minami tomorrow, because there really was no time off for a fighter and coach who had their first pro fight in just under a month’s time now. Yuuri didn’t know who was more nervous, Minami or him. 

Minami had a good team of professionals on his side, amazing doctors and physiotherapists, he could have had an amazing coach in Celestino like Yuuri and Phichit, but he’d been adamant on Yuuri the moment his first pro fight card was drawn up. 

So Yuuri needed to get home and spend time going over a time table for the next few weeks, fitting his own training in while making Minami his priority, making sure Minami was in optimal condition with his head in the right place, everything had to be set right or it was easy to overwhelm yourself, Yuuri knew this most of all. His fight last year was the perfect example of that. 

Yuuri could say he was _almost_ at ease as he slung his back pack over his shoulder after fetching his phone, comfortable enough to check it as he opened the door of the bedroom and stepped back onto the cold marble floor of the hallway.

Then he was groaning for all the wrong reasons as he opened a message from the JR train service company, a general text message to their subscribers telling them that a few lines in the Tokyo were delayed or currently stopped. Of course the loop that he took to get home was one of them.

Yuuri’s habit of making things worse than they were kicked in, the pessimist who saw the worst before he told himself it wasn’t that much of an issue. Why did this have to happen to him on a Friday night? The buses would be packed if some of the trains were delayed, taxis on Friday nights in the city weren’t worth the effort, and it looked like Yuuri would be walking the four kilometres home to Shibuya from Victor’s place in Azabu. It would take him thirty five minutes at his pace, it wasn’t _long_ , except it was compared to the 10 it would take on the train. 

With a long walk ahead of him, Yuuri started it with the length of the hallway, and there Victor was in the foyer, leaning against the wall because he _did_ own the place, everything about him was poised in this picture of unreal beauty. His sweeping silver hair, striking blue eyes, expression thoughtful as he watched Yuuri stop in front of him.

When Yuuri said saying goodbye would be easy this time with no exchange of money involved he was lying, because Victor pushed himself off the wall and onto the right side of Yuuri’s personal space, only an inch closer than last time, and brought his phone out to show Yuuri his screen with the same text about the trains.

“Is your train line out?” Victor questioned, serious.

Blatantly lying to someone like Victor Nikiforov was probably a futile effort, and Yuuri really was a horrific liar when it came down to it, so all he could do was shrug like the trains being out didn’t bother him. 

“Ah, yeah, looks like I’ll catch a cab home.” maybe Yuuri lied a little bit, awkwardly spoke around the whole truth which was better than troubling Victor like he’d done last time. 

Once again Victor’s eyes narrowed on him, those same pin point pupils Victor showed him when Yuuri lied about being tired, a minor clench of his straight jaw, eyebrows drawn in because it was clear that he didn’t like Yuuri’s answer in the slightest. 

“I can take you if you want, Yuuri.” came Victor’s offer then, carefully blank like he didn’t want to push Yuuri into an answer, because taking Yuuri in his car was a little bit too real, too personal given their arrangement was meant to be anything but. 

“It’s fine, really, you don’t need to go out of your way.” Yuuri spoke the truth this time at least.

“Yuuuuri.” Victor drawled his name long and low, “You’re the one who has to go out of your way and get here, me taking you home only makes it even.” 

And Yuuri couldn’t actually find fault in that argument, nothing would come to his mind fast enough that he could use other than useless excuses and lies that wouldn’t work on Victor.

“But if you don’t want me to take you, “Victor said then, giving Yuuri the option of saying no if he wanted to, “Then that’s fine.” 

This is when Yuuri really didn’t know what to do, where if he thought about it as the original arrangement he’d made with Victor then this was all too confusing. But what Phichit said kept nagging at him, loud in the silence as Yuuri thought about it, ‘ _he wants to spoil you_ ’, and it made it all a lot less harder to understand, unbelievable still, but less complicated. 

Yuuri didn’t _want_ to be spoiled at all, he didn’t want or need any more than he’d been given, but surely a ride home didn’t qualify as spoiling material? It was that reason and the thought of making it fair this one time that made his mind up, it would only be 10 minutes by car, awkwardness for that long was better than a long walk.

“A ride home would be good, thank you.” Yuuri fidgeted on his feet, played with his thumbs as he looked Victor in the eye and the reaction was instantaneous. 

Victor pressed a slender finger to his lip, _smiling_ behind it as his eyes sparkled with something playful and charming. “Okay, I’ll get my keys.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, and thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MMA = mixed martial arts.

Yuuri took a good look through the dark expanse of Victor’s apartment as the man himself went to get his keys from the coffee table in the middle of the living area. 

It was all sterile lines, black leather and grey shag pile rugs on the white marble floor. The raised ceiling gave it this increased sense of emptiness compared to Victor’s bedroom, a vast open space full of nighttime shadows and neutral colours. 

On the far wall stood a massive bookshelf full of leather-bound volumes that looked for decoration only, there was a nook in that bookshelf that had crystal decanters full of amber liquor, and even from here Yuuri could see only a single crystal tumbler placed upside down next to them all. Yuuri wondered if that lone tumbler ever had company, or if Victor always drank alone. 

Yuuri was hit with that same feeling of solitude and isolation as he kept looking, because the right hand wall to the bookshelf was all glass, a giant window the entire length of the living room, the entire height of the raised ceiling. The sheer scope of the view dwarfed the black leather sofas in front, the city lights sparkled like they were the only thing that kept this space company. A single brass lamp stand next to the sofa was on, and Yuuri couldn’t help but think that it was only lighting enough for one person to see. 

He was too distracted to pay attention to much else other than that, the huge balcony on the other side of the crystal clear glass, the sparkling clean island bench and kitchen that looked over the entire space from the opposite side of the room to that glass window, Yuuri would have been wowed by the grandeur of that too if he really saw it.  
He hardly noticed though, because Victor was in front of that view, and Yuuri’s eyes were glued to him now as his breath paused in his throat. Victor’s steps were whisper silent as he moved in the near darkness to pick up his keys. The image of Victor’s frame in front of that enormous window, the silhouette of his shoulders in front of the city lights, his height and bearing, even when Yuuri couldn’t see him clearly he was still so mind blowingly attractive, so markedly different and mysterious just like the place he lived.  
It was a powerful sight to see, it spoke of all the questions about Victor that Yuuri was failing to solve, it spoke of money and strength, success and everything anyone might ever want, but Yuuri couldn’t see _life_ or anyone actually living here. It was too silent, too tidy and _perfect_ , Yuuri would call it lonely, but presuming that sort of thing about Victor who could probably have anyone he wanted didn’t make sense. 

Before he could think any more about it, before he could get more curious than he should, more out of his depth into something he didn’t understand, Yuuri put that feeling of desolation down to the fact that it was dark instead. None of the lights were on and it was dead quiet, it was none of his business whether Victor kept company or not.

Victor was back before Yuuri’s mind could stray once more to the lonely luxury apartment, keys in hand with a brilliance in his eyes that was so different to the stark emptiness behind him, and Yuuri _reeled_ because he was actually going to be traveling in a car with that. He was going to be in close proximity to someone who’s charm was a weapon in itself, and Yuuri had nothing in his arsenal of training to defend against it. 

Walking suddenly felt like the better option after all, but there was no way he could when Victor’s eyes were on him, still assessing, still _checking_ , still making sure that Yuuri was comfortable with this sudden change in their arrangement.

Victor slipped his shoes on, the movement practiced and efficient, and then he turned to Yuuri with that same playful smile and opened the door for Yuuri to go first.

“Shall we go then?” and it was too smooth, too gentlemanly for Yuuri to handle. If Victor intended it or not, there was no way anyone in their right mind could really say no to that. Not anyone who was physically attracted to tall, built, silver haired, blue eyed Russians, which Yuuri realised he was probably becoming.

So all Yuuri could do was suppress a shiver and smile, step out the door and feel that intense blue gaze on his back as they made their way to the elevator that led to the basement parking lot.

“Relax, Yuuri.” Victor chuckled as the elevator doors shut, the mirrored walls reflected Victor’s appearance from every angle, his crisp white shirt and tailored black pants, Yuuri had sight problems already, and Victor wasn’t helping at all. “I promise I’ve got my drivers license.”

And that statement, the devilish flash in Victor’s eyes, the teasing smile had Yuuri’s heart racing, he couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. 

It was however, time to snap out of being this flustered, it wasn’t like they were in that bedroom anymore, they were outside, two people who could talk and interact like anyone else. It wouldn’t do for Victor to think that he was this hesitant mess who couldn’t hold a conversation, that wasn’t Yuuri at all, so with an exhale of tension and a smile in return, Yuuri decided to properly be himself. 

“Not from a cereal box I hope?” Yuuri retorted, slowly falling into a semblance of himself as he chose to ignore the fact that before this he’d been naked and moaning on Victor’s bed, as he _tried_ to ignore how insanely hot Victor was so he could talk with him instead. 

And he heard Victor’s breath catch, saw his eyes widen, he saw the pleased surprise hit Victor’s face before Victor started laughing, and it was deep and real and it _suited_ Victor so much it was hard not to stare.

The elevator stopped at the basement floor, the pre recorded system announcing the floor level in both Japanese and English, and Victor stopped laughing as the doors opened, back to smiling again as he gestured Yuuri out once more, that gold ring flashed on his finger, this silent reminder of all the mysteries of Victor Nikiforov.

It was as Yuuri stepped close to walk past him that Yuuri knew he’d done it well and truly this time, because Victor looked down at him with heat and daring in his eyes, with _excitement_ , and all at once Yuuri knew that Victor loved a challenge just as much as Yuuri did.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you it’s not from a box, Yuuri.” Victor teased again.

Now Yuuri didn’t know if he should be excited or terrified, _both_ , as he stepped out with Victor following at his shoulder.

“Right at the end on your left.” came Victor’s voice from behind, the directions casual and close in his ear.

So with Victor behind him, eyes on his back and still on the right side of his personal space, Yuuri walked through the basement parking lot past supercars and luxury sedans, all richer than the last. There were Rolls Royces and Bentleys, Porches and top line Mercedes, all parked in rows opposite each other in the private carpark, all shining under the inconspicuous lights wired above.

Guessing Victor’s car would have been impossible, he knew he’d be caught off guard either way as he was with everything to do with Victor so far, and sure enough when he got to the end of the parked vehicles, closest to the wall on the left, he saw Victor’s car and froze in his tracks.

And Yuuri wasn’t sure what to take in first as he stood there staring, the matte black Ferrari 458 with gold wheels that matched Victor’s ring perfectly, or the fact that Victor had bumped into him, chest flush against Yuuri’s shoulder blades, and hadn’t bothered to step away. 

There was warm breath on his neck, the scent of musky cologne and the hard press of thick muscle against his back, and it was sensory overload as Victor brought a hand up and gripped his arm.

The squeeze on his bicep was gentle, fingers spread up the length of his muscle, and Yuuri’s head _swam_ because it wasn’t bad, there were no odd vibes or alarm bells ringing in his head like he thought there would be. Victor Nikiforov was just that smooth, Yuuri realised, smooth enough to know when to push, when to pull back, respectful still even though they were outside the bedroom, outside the allotted hour that he paid for. He was just _playing_ with Yuuri now, teasing him with another squeeze on his arm, replying to Yuuri’s banter in his own way. 

And the moment Yuuri set eyes on that car he knew he’d lost this one already, this sleek black monster with smooth lines and ominous matte paint looked right back at him, gold emblem on the hood and that trademark prancing horse gleaming in gold in the centre of the front body kit. He should have known, black and gold through and through, like that colour of oblivion was _meant_ to highlight the colour of victory that seemed to fit this man perfectly. There was no way on earth someone with a cereal box licence could drive that let alone own one.

He’d walked right into it, set himself up because of what he’d said, so it was his turn to laugh because _holy shit_ , he was going for a ride in that custom coloured Ferrari, something nearly as good looking as the person who’d be driving it. 

“Lets see how fast I can get you home with my cereal box license then, Yuuri.” Victor chuckled behind him as he stepped back and gave Yuuri space, rattling the keys as he did so to echo his win. 

The headlights flashed once as Victor unlocked it with the button on his remote, and his trepidation about Victor taking him home had quickly turned into excitement. Victor had this knack for making Yuuri feel comfortable, and with the exchange of a few words, here they were talking, _laughing_ , interacting like their private show arrangement had no bearing on the here and now, and Yuuri was more grateful for it than Victor would ever know. 

Without an extra word said, Yuuri walked to the car and got in the passenger seat on the right hand side, put his backpack in the footwell, and settled himself in the black leather seat as Victor did the same in the driver’s seat.

It was pristine and spotless, it smelt like leather and Victor’s cologne, and Yuuri had _greatly_ underestimated how close he’d really be to Victor in a car, because Victor’s right hand was there on the gearstick in the centre console, gold ring shining on his fourth finger, and Yuuri was staring all over again just like he had the first time Victor opened the door to his apartment. 

He felt anticipation gripping his body the same as it did then too, and it wasn’t from nerves this time, but from exhilaration, because Victor had this feral look in his eye as he pushed the bright red ‘engine start’ button on his steering wheel, and his lips that looked way too soft from this angle curled into a mischievous smirk as the Ferrari rumbled to life. 

“Where am I taking you?” Victor asked as he shifted into first gear, the headlights blaring onto the glossy black Mercedes parked in front of them. 

The thought hit him that Victor would see what he was _really_ paying for. He’d see the apartment building Yuuri lived in that was one of the richest places in Shibuya to be. Before Yuuri lost that fight last year in Beijing, before he got dropped by his sponsors and lost face with the federation for turning down interviews and event invitations, Yuuri had been _more_ than well off.  
Phichit used to joke that Yuuri was Japan’s poster boy for MMA. He’d been in contention to fight JJ Leroy for the lightweight title belt of their international fight federation. He was technically _still_ in contention now, but after Otabek Altin got him to ground in his fight last year and choked him out, Yuuri hadn’t fought any official matches since. Instead of tapping out of the chokehold, Yuuri had struggled until his very last breath of consciousness. He’d let his entire team down, Celestino, his sponsors, promoters and his entire family that’d come to Beijing all the way from Hasetsu to watch. 

For a whole year he’d been anything but the poster boy Phichit joked about him being, he’d turned down media requests and avoided speaking to reporters about anything to do with upcoming fights, he’d fallen completely off the radar. And without winning, without fight money at all, without sponsor money, he’d nearly nearly lost everything. Minami wasn’t even a pro himself yet, Yuuri refused to charge him more than he could afford.

The life of a mixed martial artist was one of the hardest livings someone could make, abuse yourself to make it big time, break bones and spend months out due to injury, starve yourself to make weight for weigh ins, it was spending _every_ spare second you could honing your money maker: your very own body. 

Yuuri could almost laugh, because it was still his body that brought in the real money now. It was all thanks to Victor, ever since that massive bid on his camboy show to be Yuuri’s only patron, ever since _’Sharpshooter’_ paid to see him three nights a week for the last four months, Yuuri had been able to breathe easier. The arrangement with Victor now was more luck than he deserved, the fact that Victor was smoking hot was still something he could hardly comprehend.

“You don’t have to tell me, Yuuri, I can drop you at a corner.” Victor cut into Yuuri’s downward spiral of overthinking, his tone earnest like _he_ was the one who’d done something wrong by asking for Yuuri’s address. 

“Ah, no, I’m not worried about that.” Yuuri offered a hollow laugh as he back tracked, because he was troubling Victor again with his mistimed thinking session. “I just… can’t believe it, that’s all.” 

“Oh?” and that smirk was back as Victor took it upon himself once again to take the edge off the tension that was all Yuuri’s fault, the charm back full force as Victor turned to look at Yuuri from the driver’s seat. Foot firm on the brake, hand gripped on the silver gearstick, eyes as unfathomable as the ocean was deep, the small space of this expensive supercar really wasn’t that big at all, Yuuri noted. Not when all of Victor’s attention was on him. “Can’t believe that someone with a cereal box license is taking you home in a Ferrari?” 

And it was _tease_ all over again, challenge and fire and it made Yuuri laugh for real this time because Victor probably wasn’t going to let Yuuri off easy for that remark.

“Something like that, yeah.” Yuuri gave it up, let himself relax with a smile because a smile was the least he could give to Victor in return for all this. 

Understanding wasn’t something Yuuri ever expected here either, but that’s what he was looking at as _everything_ about Victor softened for a mere moment, his smile, his eyes, his grip on the gearstick. “For what it’s worth, Yuuri, I can’t believe it either.” 

Before Yuuri could answer, before he could even begin to think about what that meant, Victor was facing forward instead, easing his foot off the clutch and pulling out of the car park, driving slow down the lane until they got to the automatic access gate that started rolling up as soon as the car came near. It was as they were waiting for it go to up the last few inches that Yuuri finally gave Victor his address.

The Ferrari bellowed as it banked up the ramp onto the street, this low growl like this thing that was happy to finally be let out of its cage, Victor had the look in his eye to match. That’s when the adrenaline hit, because the second Victor pulled into traffic on the street, he put his foot down.

It was Friday night, the roads were busy in Azabu, the main road that Victor needed to take to get to Yuuri’s apartment complex would be full of traffic, and none of that seemed to bother Victor in the slightest.

It was the rapid change of gears, Victor’s foot dancing on the clutch as his hand shifted the stick, it was Yuuri’s body pressing back into the seat as the engine opened up and roared with acceleration, weaving in and out of traffic like something out of Tokyo freaking Drift. Maybe Victor Nikiforov was actually crazy like Yuuri first thought.

But there was something for once, something about the crazy in Victor’s eyes that wouldn’t let Yuuri bring himself to care, or worry, or overthink, maybe it was just because he was going fast in a cool car instead.

“Holy shit!” Yuuri could only shout, heart racing, butterflies in his ribcage as Victor manoeuvred through traffic like the law didn’t apply to him, and this wasn’t crazy, this was _insane_ , Victor was actually insane.

And yet Yuuri couldn’t look away, he couldn’t look at the road, at the lights that sped by and the cars they left behind them, he could only look at the wild smile on Victor’s face, the fire in his eyes, could only hear him laugh again as he had _fun_ speeding through traffic and taking Yuuri’s breath away.

“Okay, okay, I get you can drive!” he laughed as Victor more than proved him wrong, as he handled the car with expert precision and manoeuvred through traffic with ease and skill, Yuuri would have had more questions right then if he wasn’t so busy trying to slow his heart rate down.

“Are you sure?” Victor chuckled and slowed down anyway, shifting gears down and falling back into the normal flow of traffic, they were more than half way back to Yuuri’s house already. Four kilometres wasn’t that far after all, not with Victor driving. 

“I’m sure.” Yuuri shot back, wondering whether his heart could take much more adrenaline in such a short time span, from the high Victor had talked him through on his bed, to the rush of going insanely fast through Tokyo traffic, another one and Yuuri might just melt into his seat. 

“If you say so.” Victor smiled to himself in his seat, eyes on the road, seemingly satisfied with his efforts in teasing Yuuri even outside his bedroom.

Overwhelmed again by everything that was Victor, Yuuri fell into silence instead, and Victor kept driving with that same gleam in his eye.

Yuuri thought back to what Phichit said once again and questioned what he was really getting himself into. It was so _hard_ not to think about with Victor so close to him, even though thinking was absolutely useless, the only thing that would give him answers was seeing Victor again, talking to him more, _showing_ Victor more so Yuuri could see behind his composure. With that one glance tonight it was easy for even Yuuri to understand that Victor was keeping his reactions in check, it’s not like Yuuri expected anyone to not touch themselves when they watched, Victor included. That’s what they paid for after all, visual stimulation to help themselves get off. Or so Yuuri thought until Victor did nothing but sit in that chair and _watch._

The car seemed to be getting smaller by the second, his proximity to Victor influencing his thoughts too much, because he looked at that hand on the gearstick again and wondered what it would be like if Victor _did_ touch himself while he sat in that chair. Would he do it with that same hand that he wore the ring on? Would he unbutton his shirt so Yuuri could see the muscle that he _knew_ was underneath? Yuuri wanted to know, because he knew that whatever Victor did, it would be something worth looking at, Yuuri wasn’t that blind after all. 

It was a few minutes drive in silence as Yuuri cut his risky thoughts off and told himself to stop being stupid. Then, a few turns and Victor was pulling up to the curb outside his building. It’d taken a lot less than ten minutes for something that should be a fifteen minute drive in this traffic, and Yuuri wasn’t sure if he released a pent up breath because it was over, or because it’d gone by too fast, going for a ride in a Ferrari wasn’t something that happened every day.

The car idled next to the sidewalk, crowds of people bustled past between here and the entrance to his building, it was busy in Shibuya as usual, and people stopped to look at the intimidating supercar parked on the street. 

Yuuri on his old income wouldn’t ever be able to afford this, not even Phichit who was champion of the weight class below Yuuri, of course it would get looks, and that did nothing to help the awkwardness of saying goodbye now that they were here. 

“Thanks again.” Yuuri scratched his head in a bid to occupy himself, goodbyes weren’t his specialty, especially in a car with a hot guy who paid Yuuri to writhe on his bed.

“You don’t need to thank me, Yuuri.” came the honest response, “I told you it’s only fair. So if you want a ride again, all you need to do is ask.” 

“I know.” Yuuri admitted after hearing that word ‘want’ again. Yuuri didn’t really _want_ anything, he didn’t want to be spoiled, he didn’t want some weird relationship for money like Phichit said, he only wanted to know more about Victor because he’d never met anyone like him in his life. In saying that, he wouldn’t mind another ride home with Victor. 

“Good.” Victor sighed then, his face sincere as their night came to an end, looking over at Yuuri like the world outside this car didn’t exist, “I’ll see you Monday.” 

It was a bad time to think about Victor’s too clean, too perfect, too dark apartment again as Yuuri looked back at someone with more charisma and appeal than one person knew what to do with. It was bad to think about that solitary crystal tumblr in the liquor nook, the lone circle of light on the sofa from a single lamp stand. It was bad to think that it was Friday night and Victor had spent the majority of the evening with Yuuri because he’d _paid_ Yuuri to be there. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” Yuuri said in the end, there wasn’t anything else he could say in this situation because it _really_ wasn’t any of his business. So he grabbed his bag from the footwell, pulled on the door handle and had one foot set on the ground outside when Victor spoke again.

“Yuuri?” and the call of his name was so _gentle_ ,the unasked question had Yuuri turning back to see that same query in Victor’s eyes, unspoken and hesitant of all things. 

“What is it, Victor?” Yuuri pressed when Victor didn’t say anything, because he was _sure_ Victor wanted to ask him something and he was too curious to know what it was.

He could _see_ it on the tip of Victor’s tongue, a hundred options raced through Yuuri’s head all at once, and they were probably all wrong. But Victor just sighed again, let go of whatever he was going to say and replaced it with something else. 

“Have a good weekend.” Victor said instead. 

And that was it, Victor shifted into first gear in a silent gesture for Yuuri to hop out of the car, and once Yuuri did Victor was pulling away from the curb, garnering the attention of all on the street as the car moved into traffic. 

Then, the car and Victor were gone, and Yuuri had even more questions than he had before. 

* * *

The weekend went smoothly with Minami, they set out a good plan for the next four weeks leading up to his fight in Yokohama, Yuuri made sure he was okay with interviews and media, made sure he was confident enough for the open practice sessions that would be scheduled through out the lead up to his fight. 

Minami talked about it all with an exuberant smile and enthusiasm, happy to have his first crack at making it pro with Katsuki Yuuri as his coach. It was Yuuri who was more nervous about the publicity side of it all, fighting always changed when you stepped up to pro level, whether you were just starting out or were the champion of your weight class. The added attention from media and speculators was a different kind of pressure, having an ego made you more popular, it was all a show between two fighters, test after test until you finally set foot into that eight sided cage to prove who was the best. He was lucky that Minami’s bout was minor, only a preliminary fight for the big fight of the night, so the young bantamweight wouldn’t have to deal with too much attention. Neither would Yuuri, hopefully. 

Over the next few weeks he would find out. 

* * *

Monday went by just as fast as the weekend did, time always had this way of rushing when a fight loomed, and Yuuri found out it was no different even he was just a coach this time. 

So by the time he knew it he was already at Victor’s at seven pm that evening, they’d been through their greetings and smiles at the door that weren’t half as awkward as they were exactly one week ago. They’d been through that searing closeness as Yuuri took his shoes off and walked down the hall, through that weighted tension as Yuuri dropped his bag and took his glasses off. And Yuuri at least, had been through that same blood burning sensation of Victor’s eyes on him as he undressed on his way to the bed. 

And now he was doing that same wiggle of his hips as he pulled his jeans down, the same bite of his lip because he was _ready_ for this already, waiting to see what Victor would hit him with next. 

“You learn fast, Yuuri.” Victor drawled to him from that black leather chair, because he hadn’t even needed to prompt Yuuri to strip slow, hadn’t needed to tell Yuuri that he looked good pulling his jeans down, Yuuri could see it in those blue eyes that were watching the show with avid interest. 

He crawled onto the bed all on his own too, pulse in his ears, Victor’s eyes roving his skin like he was seeing him for the first time even though it’d only been one weekend. That tube of lube was there too, and something in the back of Yuuri’s head was _glad_ that it was, because it meant he’d feel that good this time too. 

“You’re awfully keen today, Yuuri.” and Yuuri writhed at the hot antagonism in that tone, the way it ghosted over his skin, made him _weak_ when his body was anything but. “Any one would think that you want this.” 

There was that word again, loaded with everything Victor _might_ say to ruin Yuuri this time, it was only a matter of how long it took. Yuuri was determined to keep himself in check, to draw it out as long as he could, because maybe if he frustrated Victor in turn he might see that hungry expression again.

“Make yourself feel good for me.” Victor started with that open suggestion, and Yuuri knew what that meant, it meant he could do what he wanted, however he wanted, with that Yuuri already knew how this was going to go, that he was going to be a mess in no time. 

He tried to start slow, flat on his back with his eyes shut, near the end of the bed again so he could hear Victor’s voice better, closer in his ear. His hands were _barely_ on his skin and he was already unraveling, because Victor hit him with praise right from the get go, and there was no such thing as keeping himself in check then.

“Your body looks so good, Yuuri, splayed out like that.” and it was warm and _rich_ with approval, enough to have him arching his back off the sheets and gasping, enough to make him _want_ more. 

“Mmmore.” it was half moan already, half whine as he decided to ask for it just like Victor told him to, blindly reaching for that tube on the bed as he did so.

“Oh? So you do know to ask?” Victor hummed, and it was all smug satisfaction and appreciation, “That’s good, Yuuri, because that’s all you need to do.” 

After that, it was an _attack_ of praise, this heated narration of how perfect he looked on the white sheets, how good he sounded when he finally let his voice out, Yuuri was ruined with words alone before he knew it, and Victor was relentless. 

It ended up with him biting at the sheets again, rutting flat against the mattress as he tried to hold on to time, grasping at the sheets with one hand, his other between his cheeks, fingers curling inside the way Victor knew he liked it most. 

“You’re a mess, Yuuri.” and Yuuri could _hear_ that edge again, a hidden note of Victor’s own frustration, he could see it from the corner of his eye as he glanced over to Victor in his chair, jaw clenched, fingers clasped tight, eyes unwavering in their intensity. “A beautiful mess.” 

And hearing that, seeing Victor there, holding himself together made it feel so much better as Yuuri fell apart.

* * *

It was counting down the days to Minami’s fight after that, making sure every thing was going as planned with his health, with his training and with his state of mind.

Every day he worked with Minami, polished his footwork in order to beat the nimble 19 year old Guang Hong Ji, and every second day of the week he saw Victor. 

That Wednesday Victor wouldn’t let him touch himself at all, he’d bid Yuuri to strip, directed him to sit against the headboard of Victor’s enormous bed, told him to spread his legs wide so he could see the view, and then he’d worked Yuuri up with words alone, antagonised him, teased him, praised him until Yuuri’s entire body throbbed with need. 

Yuuri ended up begging that night, ended up pleading Victor’s name over and over again so he could touch himself. The greedy look on Victor’s face as Yuuri said ‘ _please_ ’ was worth the torment. 

* * *

Friday after that was torture of the opposite kind, because instead of telling Yuuri to hold back, forbidding Yuuri to touch himself, Victor had Yuuri coming within the first five minutes on that bed with the clean white sheets.

“So much for Katsuki Yuuri’s famed stamina.” Victor had teased on purpose, this low drawl full of provocation.

Yuuri had growled back at that, glared at Victor as his blood roared at the challenge, because stamina was his biggest fighting strength. The answering surprise on Victor’s face, the pure _astonishment_ , the hitch of Victor’s breath, the way it hissed between his teeth had Yuuri ready to go all over again.

The resulting fire as Victor smirked back at him after that was agonising, because Victor made him come again and again. 

* * *

The weekend passed too fast again, brought him closer to the fight, and Yuuri had more things he had to see to with Minami. It was the week open sparring sessions started, where reporters and media turned up to training sessions to size up fighters and learn more about each side. And, as Yuuri feared, reporter Morooka among others were there at the end of all Minami’s questions to ask Yuuri endless questions too.

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he’d bitten off more than he could chew, juggling the two things at once, or if Victor was really getting to him that much, because Monday and Wednesday at Victor’s apartment he’d crumbled faster than he ever had before. He was too distracted to try and decipher anything now, the open looks of concern on Victor’s face, the extra attention after that hour was up, the questions asking if Yuuri was okay. The option of being tired wasn’t something Yuuri even thought about, he couldn’t afford to be tired for Minami’s sake. 

So now it’d been two weeks of this, which meant it was two weeks before the weekend fight in Yokohama, and even though he’d been ten minutes late, Yuuri was at Victor’s on Friday evening like he should be.

Except the smile that greeted him at the door wasn’t there this time, instead he got this cold assessment, Victor looked him and up down with a sharp gaze that made Yuuri realise that Victor was _annoyed_. 

“Come in.” Victor bid, impassive and blank before Yuuri could say anything, before he could apologise for being late, before he could say he should have messaged to let Victor know. 

Victor stayed right back this time, so far out of his personal space that it seemed _odd_ to have Victor so far away from him, and nothing in his expression told Yuuri anything as Yuuri took his shoes off and walked down the hall. Yuuri thought he was over being nervous when he came here, but today was fast proving him wrong, and it wasn’t because he thought anything bad was going to happen, it was because it seemed like nothing _good_ might happen instead. 

His bag had only just hit the floor when Victor spoke, interrupting their routine with something he hadn’t said before that took Yuuri by surprise yet again.

“Keep your glasses on, just go lie on the bed.” it was quiet and full of consideration as Victor stood at the door behind him, waiting. 

It was only when Yuuri was settled, sitting cross legged settled on the bed that Victor sat in the chair opposite him. He was so foreboding, sitting there in his white shirt and perfectly tailored pants, legs crossed, fingers clasped together as usual, it was the way he usually sat, but the difference in his demeanour changed everything about him.

“Yuuri.” Victor breathed at last, all sigh and exasperation as his expression finally turned into something Yuuri had seen before. Worry. “Didn’t I say that if you can’t make it, if you’re tired, if you don’t want to come then all you need to do is tell me?” 

Yuuri nearly collapsed back onto the bed, relieved and taken aback all in one, _that’s_ what this was about. He opened his mouth to say something, to try and explain, to tell Victor it wasn’t his problem, and yet he promptly came up with nothing, because Victor _was_ worried.

It was the most raw emotion he’d seen from Victor yet, self conflict as Victor pinched the bridge of his nose with that same hand he wore the ring on, “You think I don’t know about Kenjiro’s fight in two weeks?”

And that was enough to have Yuuri saying something, enough to have him asking questions of his own, because he hadn’t told Victor anything about that. “How do you know?” 

“Yuuuri, anyone who’s going to be watching knows that you’re his coach.” Victor sighed again, “Of course I know.” 

“Oh…” Yuuri trailed off, because that only made sense, if Victor had seen his fight last year, if he’d seen other fights, then of course he’d probably go to others. 

“I told you before, look after yourself.” the tone was soft now, earnest. All the annoyance was gone, the frustration and exasperation, “You don’t need to push yourself, Yuuri.” 

All the looks of concern over the passed two weeks made sense now, the extra scrutiny at the door, the questions at the end of the night, Yuuri had been pushing himself, and in turn he’d pushed Victor to this point as well. 

Victor gave him time to think though, he set his intense gaze elsewhere so Yuuri could mull things over properly. He already knew what Victor was going to say, he was going to say something that Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to ask for, all because of the notion that Victor had paid him for this time already. 

All over again Yuuri was blown away by this person, this personality he couldn’t figure out, someone so hell bent on making sure Yuuri’s comfort came first, and Yuuri had no idea why. All he knew was that he wouldn’t get any answers over the next two weeks at all. 

“What do you want me to do then?” Yuuri asked in the end anyway.

It was then that Victor finally smiled, except this one didn’t look at real as all the others he’d seen before now.

“Tonight, I want you to rest.” Victor offered, “And then I think it’s best if you don’t come here for the next two weeks.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut a few scenes short in this, but this chapter is finally finished!
> 
> Typos as usual, I hope you enjoy it!

Yuuri didn’t know if he should be grateful or offended. Grateful that Victor had gone out of his way on a night he’d paid for to tell Yuuri to rest, or offended that Victor was trying to look after him when he could look after himself. 

He mulled it over in the silence as Victor looked back at him, eyes veiled to hide whatever he was thinking. It was true Yuuri had a work horse reputation, everyone knew that Yuuri never knew when to call it quits before he overworked himself, it was always Celestino or Phichit that had to step in before a fight and tell him to rest. And it was never because Yuuri was oblivious to the amount of training he put it, it was because his pre fight anxiety always overrode his need for rest. It was so much easier not to think when you were moving, breathless and _doing something_.

It was one of his biggest problems, and maybe it was a problem even if he was coaching too, but that stubborn streak of Yuuri’s wasn’t going to just roll over, no matter if it was Victor or not. 

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Yuuri said eventually, feeling that hit of deja vu because he’d said those exact words to Victor before on the phone.

He never got to see Victor’s reaction that time, he only got to hear his change in tone as their conversation ended. This time though, he saw it, saw the minor grimace, a pinched brow, clenched jaw, pursed lips, all there for a split second before Victor let it go with a sigh and looked at him with something that was a little too close to caring for Yuuri to take. “I know, Yuuri, but that doesn’t mean I don’t.”

It was blunt and real, and Yuuri knew this could very well turn into one of those cliche situations where strings ended up attaching themselves whether he liked it or not just because Victor was _nice_ to him. It was probably already too late, because Yuuri thought about the fact that this was Friday night again, the fact that he was here being paid to sit on this huge bed in this lonely apartment with the solemn lighting and drinks set up for one, and he didn’t want to go. He was already wondering if Victor would spend the next two weeks on the nights Yuuri was meant to be here alone, or if he’d occupy himself with something or _someone_ else. The emotions that came to mind at the thought told Yuuri the strings were already doing what they wanted. Maybe two weeks apart after this would do something about that. 

“How did you find me on that website?” Yuuri changed the topic, he cut into his own thoughts with a question, _conversation_ , because if he wasn’t going to give Victor a show tonight he might as well give him someone to talk to. Maybe he’d get some answers of his own at that same time.

This was a question he’d wanted the answer to since that first moment of panic when Victor already knew his name, only now was he comfortable enough to ask, confident that Victor was the nice guy Yuuri thought he was.

He got surprise then, more emotion as Victor’s eyes widened for a moment before he chuckled and _relaxed_ into his chair, because Yuuri hadn’t realised how rigid Victor had been up until this point, like only now after Yuuri’s reaction could he sit there at ease. “I wasn’t stalking you, if that’s what you were wondering.” 

“I… that’s not what I meant.” Yuuri sputtered, he knew Victor was teasing him even now, even without the show, and so he couldn’t help but pout because he always walked right into it. This banter with Victor was starting to feel natural, _friendly,_ whether that was good or not, Yuuri didn’t know. 

But Victor just laughed at his expression, his blue eyes far too bright for the shadowed living space in his apartment, he was far too lively and exuberant when he made that sound, when he smiled like that, and maybe that’s why he always seemed to be in the dark when Yuuri got here, because he was enough on his own. “I know, it’s okay, I guess it wouldn’t be hard to make that assumption though. My colleague was playing around on the camboy website one night while we were preparing things for work, and he found your channel.” 

Yuuri felt himself tense up with each word, the start of worry and panic swirling in his gut because if Victor had known it was him then maybe his colleague did too, he was too busy thinking about that to even notice the fact that Victor was talking about his own private life now, his work.

Victor shook his head like even he still couldn’t believe it’d ended up this way, his eyes pained like a man who’d seen a chance nearly slip through his fingers, “I was only walking behind his chair to go out and get some air. Then I looked at his laptop screen, and knew it was you.” 

Yuuri wasn’t naked on Victor’s bed, he wasn’t touching himself or even aroused, he wasn’t in the throws of bliss or drowning in the heat of Victor’s voice, but his heart was still racing nonetheless, in his throat as he realised how that one crucial moment had led to all this. 

“How did you know though?” Yuuri had no idea why he was whispering, maybe it’s because they were talking about a secret that wasn’t a secret between the two of them, maybe it was because he wasn’t asking the question he really wanted to ask, _’why did you know it was me?’_

Victor hadn’t stopped looking at him for a moment, not one single heartbeat, like even Yuuri just _laying_ there on his bed doing nothing was a show enough for him. Yuuri wasn’t prepared at all for this, for how intimate talking was compared to everything else that’d brought them to this point. 

“Like I said, Yuuri,” Victor started, voice soft, “I’d never forget a body like yours.” 

He knew he’d been walking a tightrope of desperation with those shows, and now even without his own proper money coming in, in just three weeks Victor had managed to make him feel more secure than he’d felt in months. It was now that Yuuri knew he was grateful instead of offended, because out of all the people to recognise him for his body of all things, it was Victor Nikiforov, an enigmatic rich man who was too much of a gentleman for Yuuri to comprehend.

Conversation fell away for a moment then as it sunk in for them both, and even the silence shared between them was intense, _heavy_ with answers that Yuuri wasn’t sure he wanted to ask for anymore. He had a feeling that no matter what Victor said, Yuuri would be left reeling. Just like he was now. 

“Why are you doing this?” Yuuri couldn’t help himself after all, voice still quiet as he clutched at the sheets with his fingers, feeling more vulnerable as he sat fully clothed on Victor’s bed than all the other times when he’d been naked and begging. 

The regret was instant, Yuuri didn’t want the answer after all, because the question itself had come with more strings. Yuuri could admit he was too naive, too emotionally susceptible to attaching himself to someone who even showed the slightest bit of genuine care. Yuuri knew all too well what it was like to be lonely. It’d only been _three_ weeks, and Yuuri was being stupid, no matter what Phichit kept saying.

And it seemed like this one time was one of the times where Victor was going to push, where he was going to say something even though the silence already said enough. The weight of quiet was nothing compared to the look in Victor’s eyes, deep, endless, and only now was Yuuri reminded that the hottest flame to burn was blue. 

“Because I want to, Yuuri.” Victor whispered those words back that meant everything and nothing all at once, just the way Victor intended them to no doubt. Yuuri knew that at least was on purpose, that Victor was keeping the veil over himself, whether it was for Victor’s sake or Yuuri’s was another matter. 

Two weeks away from the intensity of Victor while he was this busy was probably for the best, maybe that’s why Victor had said this all in the first place. Two weeks, that brought Yuuri back to what Victor said earlier too, _’ anyone who’s going to be watching knows that you’re his coach.’_

This was an easier question to ask, safe, because it wasn’t about what was going on between them at all, “Does that mean you’ll be at the event in two weeks then?” 

Yuuri still hung on the answer nonetheless, because it meant the next time he might see Victor would be in public, where Yuuri would be working, surrounded by people and supporters, by fans and reporters. The thought of seeing Victor amidst all that chaos felt surreal, because then they wouldn’t just be connected in private like they were now, they’d be connected in public too if they so much acknowledged each other.

“I was planning on it, yes.” Victor answered, his tone careful, his smile gentle, he knew what it meant just as much as Yuuri did. 

And even the verbal acknowledgment didn’t faze Yuuri like he thought it would, because chances were he wouldn’t see Victor anyway, he’d be too busy with Minami to think about anything else. There was no way he’d let himself even think of being distracted when it was Minami’s first big fight. 

Victor knew it well enough too, it seemed, because he got up then, that gentle smile still on his face as he looked down at Yuuri on his enormous bed with the sheets that were still perfect because Yuuri hadn’t messed them up like all the other times. “Rest, Yuuri. You can stay here or go home, whatever you want.” 

Then, Victor left the room. And Yuuri hung on that word ’want’ as it rang out through the quiet that Victor left behind. It’d changed, turned backwards from what Victor said before, _’tonight, I want you to rest’_ , putting it all in Yuuri’s hands again, not telling Yuuri what to do in the slightest, but asking instead. 

Yuuri was a fool, because once again he thought about Victor walking down the hall into his sterile lounge with the lights off and the single whisky tumbler in the liquor nook. He thought about Victor sitting on that leather couch beneath the spot where that lamp light reached, and he knew the difference even having someone in the same house made when you were alone. If it were anyone else, Yuuri would have left in a heartbeat. He should still be leaving anyway. 

This wasn’t his job at all, his job was to get naked and show off his body, to do what Victor asked in that sense of things, touch himself, say Victor’s name, fall apart and make a mess of himself. It wasn’t his job to _rest_ here on this bed, and yet that’s exactly what he was going to do until the hour and the ten minutes he was late were up, because that was the least he could do. 

It gave him time to think, time to see Victor’s back walking away from him, shoulders straight and broad, the angle perfect, strong enough to carry whatever weightless burden Yuuri was beginning to believe Victor had. It gave him time to mull over that look on Victor’s face as he’d looked back at Yuuri before passing through the doorway, this solemn contentedness. And Yuuri was _human_ , not heartless, whether he was just imagining everything to make excuses for himself to stay or not didn’t matter. 

Victor probably heard his frustrated sigh from the other end of the hall as Yuuri huffed and threw his head back against the pillow, using it for what it was meant for for the first time as he stared up at the ceiling. If it was like this after just three weeks, what would it be like after three months? One of Yuuri’s biggest problems was thinking too much, and so he lay on that bed and tried to shut it out as time passed.

To go with that, one of Yuuri’s biggest strengths was making himself fall asleep when he didn’t want to think about anything, anytime, anywhere, even here it seemed, because the more Yuuri settled against the soft pillow and clean sheets, the drowsier he became. 

He’d only meant to relax, not actually sleep, but it was Friday night, he was tired and worn out, the bed was comfortable, and so sleeping is exactly what Yuuri did.

* * *

Yuuri woke with a start, panic pounding in his chest as he registered the sight of a ceiling not his own after he opened his eyes, immobile for those few seconds between asleep and awake.

He knew it was barely dawn, because no matter how hard Yuuri tried, he always woke up at this ungodly hour because his body clock was conditioned to it. It never meant he couldn’t go back to sleep however, snooze until his phone told him it really was time to wake up.

There was none of that this morning though, not as he tried to calm his heart and take in the room around him. Victor’s bedroom with that giant window to his left, the city dormant in the hour before dawn, lights in multitudes of colours sparkling through the glass were his only source of illumination, Victor must have come in at some point to turn the bedroom light off. 

Waking up to see that view would have been beautiful, peaceful even if he wasn’t so _confused_. He was still on top of the bedsheets as he was last night, fully clothed and extremely warm, snug even, because there was a black mink blanket thrown over top of him, pulled all the way up to his shoulders like he’d been tucked in with care. His glasses had been pulled off his nose, folded and put on the nightstand next to him along with a glass of water, and Yuuri didn’t even have to look at himself to know he was blushing, flustered and actually embarrassed the moment he woke up. He’d stolen Victor’s bed for the night. How rude could someone be?!

Yuuri groaned, because this wasn’t how he wanted to start his weekend at all, he went to push his hair away from his eyes out of habit, bury his face in his hands and hide from the world as he curled into himself, but his hair had already been brushed out of his eyes. 

That’s when everything else hit him, the soft tingle on his forehead like the lingering remnant of a gentle touch, the memory of a tentative thumb touching his lips, a dream of sighing and falling deeper into the oblivion of sleep. It was a good dream too, or it would have been if it was just a dream. Yuuri had the mortifyingly sinking feeling that it had, in fact, been real. 

And now his heart had two completely different reasons to keep on thumping out of control, his cheeks more than one reason to stay pink, it was another thing that made him want to bury his face in his hands. This couldn’t be good for his health, surely. So it was time to go and clear his head properly, he had plenty of time to get in a morning sparring session with Phichit before his day with Minami began.

His phone alarm bleeped in his backpack by the door as he flung the soft blanket off his body, he rushed to turn it off before deciding not to be ungrateful as well as rude, and went back to smooth out the sheets and fold the blanket nicely before picking up his glasses. 

It was one last breath to gather himself before he picked up his bag and slung it on his back, then he was walking down that all too familiar hallway at an hour where he shouldn’t even be here. Phichit was going to lose it, Yuuri wouldn’t live this down. The power of Yuuri’s sleeping ability could overcome anything according to Phichit.

With soft steps Yuuri neared the end of the hall, hoping he could simply slip out and send a message to Victor later rather than face him instead. Because what was he meant to say? ’Thanks for tucking me in and turning the light off?’, maybe he could say ‘your bed is real comfortable, you should try it sometime.’

And since Victor was so nice, _too_ nice, too handsome, he’d probably just laugh and tease Yuuri for it, and Yuuri would get caught up even more. 

But his plans of slipping away like a smash and dash without the smash vanished as he neared the end of the hall and walked closer to the foyer where his shoes and the door was, because he could hear Victor’s voice around the corner in the lounge.

In fluent Russian, words thick and unintelligible to Yuuri’s ear, Victor spoke in a tone that he’d never spoken to Yuuri with before, and Yuuri was too curious about anything to do with Victor to just put on his shoes and slip away like he wanted.

Yuuri’s heart still hadn’t slowed, because he rounded the corner and took a few more steps into the living space to find Victor _pacing_ back and forth in front of the wall to wall window in the lounge, phone pressed to his ear with that gold ring gleaming, back straight, blue eyes boring holes into the floor. He had the same clothes on as last night, fitted dress slacks, tailored white shirt unbuttoned to the chest, sleeves rolled up to his muscled forearms, and Yuuri was too busy staring at everything that was Victor Nikiforov to move.

Victor was _angry_ , this cool, calm, angry that spoke of control and power as he replied to the person on the phone with terse words. It was in the edge of his voice, the weight of his step, in his self assured demeanour that Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

This was like seeing all the power that Yuuri knew Victor had finally on display, overwhelming and impersonal, distant and cold, completely detached from the smiles and laughter Yuuri had seen before. Not once had Victor regarded Yuuri with any of those looks, none of that icy regard or superiority, he could have treated Yuuri like that at any time, and yet he hadn’t. Yuuri wouldn’t have come back otherwise, Victor probably knew that more than anyone.

He looked like someone used to sleepless nights and overwork, like someone who bore it all without complaint, he looked like someone who was used to walking in front of the window by himself as he argued on the phone. 

Despite the early hours of the morning and the glow of the sun creeping up on the horizon, the apartment had the same vacant feel, a house instead of a home even as Victor moved through the space to cut through that feeling of isolation. The single whisky tumbler had moved from the nook to the top of the coffee table, two fingers full with a small stack of beige document folders next to it. From here Yuuri could make out the internationally understood ‘confidential’ stamp across the front in bright red ink. What the hell was he getting himself into? 

It was too early to have more questions, so all Yuuri did was watch as Victor continued, his expression growing more severe with each turn in conversation, his eyes hard and unforgiving, jaw tight, words clipped. The temperature controlled apartment should have been warm, except all Yuuri could feel was a foreboding chill the longer Victor remained on the phone. 

Yuuri made his choice to stay and say goodbye the moment he’d heard Victor’s voice, so he waited near the foyer with his bag slung over his shoulder. In the end, Victor ended up stopping mid step, pausing in front of the window as he listened to the lengthy thing the other person had to say before he replied with one final word that everyone understood no matter what language you spoke. 

“Ok.” Victor ended the conversation and hung up, tapping the screen with his thumb as he looked down at the phone, his expression still tense, his jaw still taut, eyes glacial, a shade darker than his surroundings. 

Just when Yuuri thought Victor didn’t know he was there, when he thought maybe he was intruding, Victor inhaled one deep breath, his chest expanding as he shut his eyes and pocketed his phone, then he let it all out in a final sigh before he looked over to Yuuri on the other side of the room with the life back in his eyes. 

“Good morning, Yuuri.” Victor smiled, the curve of his lips soft, and the person from before was gone as he walked over to meet Yuuri where he stood.

The tension was gone too, just like that, and it was way too easy for Yuuri to smile back, his own awkwardness melting like ice under the rising sun, “Good morning.”

It’d gone from smash and dash without the dash to this weirdly fond morning after without any action the night before, because they both stood there taking each other in, comfortable without words as the sun rose higher on the horizon behind Victor’s back. With his sleepless night Victor was only slightly disheveled, his hair a perfect kind of messy, his shirt not quite as ironed out, but it was the rolled up sleeves that changed him completely. White fabric bunched at the elbows to show the veins along Victor’s arms, defined lines of developed muscle, and a gold watch with a black face to match everything else that was Victor. Phichit had a thing for rolled up sleeves, it looked like Yuuri did now too. 

“Did you sleep well?” Victor broke the quiet with his question, his tone warm and familiar as he took one more step even closer to look down at Yuuri the way he always did. Like he was seeing him for the first time. 

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to shift on his feet and feel awkward, scratching his head to give himself something to do, “Yeah, thanks, uh sorry for crashing in your bed.” 

Victor just laughed, boyish and nonchalant, “It’s okay, it’s not like I needed it.”  
  
Yuuri wondered how many other nights Victor hadn’t needed it, how many other nights that bed had gone unslept in, “You need to get some rest too.” 

It came out before Yuuri could stop himself as he thought about what Victor said last night, because what was the point in having such a huge and _comfortable_ bed if you didn’t use it? He snapped his mouth shut after the fact, he’d not liked it when Victor told him to rest, and he just did the same thing to Victor.

But Victor’s mouth just shaped a surprised ‘O’ before he chuckled and took another step closer still, the closest they’d been face to face, “I’ll make sure to, Yuuri.” 

And then Victor’s hand was moving up from his side like it was automatic, fingers curled, palm upwards, reaching for Yuuri’s face to touch him. Except he stopped inches from Yuuri’s cheek as he realised what he’d been about to do, the moment froze then as uncertainty took them both.

The smile cracked as Victor sighed again, as he let his hand drop before it went any further even though Yuuri hadn’t recoiled, he was too shocked and unsure to move. Victor stayed where he was though, physically close as an unfathomable distance between them made itself known. “You should go, Yuuri, I know you’re busy.” 

Yuuri knew he should too, that much was obvious, but he looked at the room behind Victor, the stack of paper work, the solitary glass on the coffee table, the red and purples colours of dawn streaking the horizon out the window. And he found there was something fundamentally wrong with leaving someone on their own, no matter who they were. 

“Yeah, I should.” but there was nothing Yuuri could do about it, this wasn’t part of his job either, so he turned and made for the foyer where his shoes waited. 

Victor followed him to the door, patient as Yuuri slipped his shoes on, and Yuuri was beginning to hate goodbyes more and more because he was absolutely useless at them. 

It ended with them at the entrance, door open as Victor held it there for him with that same melancholy smile on his face that Yuuri saw last night. Yuuri had no idea if he was getting better at reading Victor, if Victor was being more open, or if Victor had no idea about the kind of face he was making. 

“I’ll see you in two weeks.” Yuuri offered as compensation, trying to make it seem like two weeks was nothing. 

“Yeah.” Victor said back, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching Yuuri’s face. “Just message me if you need anything.”

“Okay.” Yuuri smiled back one last time, and with that, he was leaving, stepping out the door with Victor’s eyes on his back. 

He made it to the elevator before he finally slumped against the mirrored wall as the doors shut with the usual litany of Japanese and then English instructions. The last couple of weeks before a fight were meant to fly by, they were meant to feel rushed and flash before your eyes as you prepared yourself. 

Yuuri had a feeling the last two weeks were going to go a lot different this time.

* * *

“Just send him a message!” Phichit laughed like it was no big deal.

It’d been one long week since he last saw Victor, it was one week closer to the fight, and they were sitting in the corner of the gym again, far away from the other side of the building where Minami was answering questions from a group of people who’d come to watch his open sparring session that Yuuri had just put him through. 

It was a fighter’s job to promote themselves at times like this, and Yuuri wanted to stay far away from anyone that was going to ask him any questions. He could see a few look in their direction, so close to Phichit Chulanont, a legend in his weight class, and Katsuki Yuuri, a nearly champion who’d given up and let people down. 

It was easier to bear Phichit’s barrage of comments about Victor than it was to talk to those people, even if Victor seemed to be the hot topic between them at the moment. Phichit would catch him off guard halfway through an early morning run and ask him something like _’Did you sleep well in your own bed? Or do you prefer Victor’s instead?’_ And as usual, Yuuri would take the bait and chase him as fast as both of them could go all the way to the gym where they’d promptly collapse at the door while everyone wondered what on earth the crazy pair was doing. 

Phichit was a good distraction from his other distraction though, Yuuri was a terrible outright liar, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Victor for a fair chunk of time. Mostly wondering about him. Phichit had even taken up inventing Victor’s background all by himself, he’d ramble on during stretching sessions and talk about Victor being some lonely man who’d been given an inheritance and had mommy issues because of some tragic past, he’d prattle about him being some big CEO of an offshore company that had a fetish for well built Japanese men, on and on he went until Yuuri threw a towel at his head and told him to shut up. 

Overall though, one week went slower than usual just as he thought it would, and much to Yuuri’s dismay, even though he’d managed to stop blushing whenever his friend said something ridiculous, Phichit was in one of those moods now, smile feral, eyes alight as Yuuri helped Phichit stretch on the mats in the corner. 

“I don’t need to send him a message, Phichit.” Yuuri deadpanned, thinking that his first mistake about all this had been telling Phichit how hot Victor was.

“Sure you do! Just ask how he is.” Phichit chirped, his legs straight out on the mat as Yuuri knelt behind him and pushed on his shoulders so Phichit could reach passed his toes. “Oho! Or you could send him a spicy selfie instead.” 

Yuuri stopped pushing, mind racing as he even thought about it, sputtering “What - why would I do that?”

Phichit was snickering to himself now, enjoying himself despite the sting of the stretch Yuuri was pushing him into again, “He _is_ technically paying to see you, Yuuri.” 

Despite all that Yuuri had done in front of Victor, on camera and on his bed, the thought of sending Victor a photo now set his ears burning red. It was such a personal thing to do. “Nonono, I hardly even sent photos to my last boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, but he’s not your boyfriend!” Phichit countered fast, Yuuri heard him mutter ‘yet’ under his breath. 

“Exactly, he’s not my boyfriend, so why would I?” Yuuri ignored that last part and clung to the first thing Phichit said, easing his friend back up slowly out of the stretch. Oh god, what would he even say if he sent a photo?! 

“Because he’s your daddy.” Phichit taunted under his breath, extra careful of listening ears as he sprung the trap he’d been luring Yuuri into. 

“Oh my god, no. Phichit!” Yuuri half laughed half grumbled, blushing _and_ bristling at the same time. He pulled Phichit up out of the stretch and wrapped his forearm around Phichit’s throat in a mock choke hold. 

His friend was completely at his mercy, and yet all Phichit did was laugh, tears in the corners of his eyes as he pretended to tap out on the mat in surrender. 

“It gets you every time.” Phichit kept laughing, extremely happy with himself as they collapsed back on the mat. 

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” Yuuri groaned, smile on his face nonetheless, this was the distraction he needed. He was the lucky one instead. 

One week to go until Minami’s fight, Yuuri thought to himself, and one week to go until he saw Victor. 

* * *

Today was the big day, and to be more precise, now was the time. The last week of preparation with Minami had been packed to the brim, there’d been no time for distractions or thinking about unnecessary things, Phichit even stopped cracking jokes. 

They’d traveled to the arena in Yokohama and spent the day going through the last health clearances and physical exams so Minami would be given the green light to fight. Along with the physio and doctor that their gym used, Celestino and Phichit made up part of Minami’s official team anyway, they were his coaching support. Together, they helped Minami warm up in the preparation room with Minami’s name on the door, they went over his fight plan and wrapped his hands before putting the slim fingerless fight gloves on. 

There were nerves and immense anticipation that had everyone on Minami’s support team on edge, along with that, Yuuri was also quietly confident and excited. It was hard not to be when you were walking out the corridor into the centre of the huge arena with a bouncing Minami in front, black and blue track suit of their gym fresh and new, worn with giddy excitement. Yuuri would never forget the first time he’d gotten his too, he’d slowly added sponsor patches over the years, and now he had none. So he wore his own as it was, representing their gym just as a coach and not a fighter anymore.

The arena was purpose built for MMA, huge rows of tiered seating that all centred around that small caged octagon in the centre of the giant building. It was already thrumming with constant chatter and full capacity. The giant screens hanging above the octagon showed fighter stats and history.

The noise of it all, the flashing lights of cameras and phones, the looming sea of people that were here already to wait for the main event fights at the end of the night, Yuuri would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the feeling of walking out into this. There was something amazing in being able to tune it all out as you focused on the octagon in front of you, as you went through final checks of fingernails and toenails and took your tracksuit off, as your coach slapped you on the face and shoved the mouthguard in your and mouth and made sure you were ready. 

It was one of the few times Yuuri’s anxiety seemed to just… melt away into insignificance, because if he’d ever been confident in anything, it was his own hard work, last years fight had thrown that all to the wind. Since that crushing defeat, that nagging fear of not being good enough plagued him. Even as much as he missed it, _longed_ for it now that he was here, the thought still sent him into a cold sweat.

Instead, he’d have to be confident about the work he put into coaching Minami.

So it was Minami’s turn now, and his entrance song drowned out the cacophony of thousands of voices as it played ‘Eye of the Tiger.’ It was cliche and overused, yet it fit the 19 year old fighter perfectly. 

It was impossible to think that Minami couldn’t win with the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put in, the early mornings and late nights, he never complained once, he always smiled no matter how much Yuuri pushed him. 

And so Yuuri did all the things Celestino used to do for him, put vaseline on Minami’s eyebrows to help stop bleeding incase the skin got split with a blow. He squirted one last dash of water into Minami’s mouth before slipping the standard mouth guard in between Minami’s teeth and pulling the track suit jacket off his shoulders. 

With a gentle slap on Minami’s cheek followed by a hug and a few more words of encouragement that helped them both, Yuuri sent Minami off into the octagon with its meshwire cage and waiting opponent. The maw of lights and seating surrounding that raised platform dwarfed them all, and he was just as full of adrenaline standing next to the cage as he had been while fighting in it. 

Yuuri braced himself, prepared to yell at Minami through the meshwire as coaches were allowed for the three whole 5 minute rounds. It was a new kind of rush, watching all the care and planning he’d put into Minami’s condition unfold before his eyes, he was _proud_ , ecstatic. 

He was even more so when Minami won his first professional fight against Guang Hong Ji in the first round by knockout using Yuuri’s very own favourite high kick to the head.

The rest of Minami’s team behind Yuuri broke into roars, Yuuri vaulted the 6ft cage fence, ignoring the steps and gate leading up into the octagon and pulled himself over to land in the ring with his first student. 

He was too busy helping raise Minami’s hand in the air as the commentator called Minami’s win to even think about Victor, let alone look for him in the roaring crowd all around them. 

He’d missed this feeling. Victory. And he wanted it back. 

* * *

It was _over_. 

Days, weeks, months of training and coaching Minami, and it was over. 

Nearly anyway. There was still one final thing to go, after all the post fight interviews and medical checks, showers and team celebrations in their changing room, it was the after party.

It was never a party so much as a gathering at another venue that was almost always a high class club. The red carpet of the MMA world. Fighters who’d been given the all clear went with coaches and their team to mingle with everyone else, fighters who’d traveled from around the globe and come to watch, promoters, more coaches, select media personnel, sport journalists, VIPs. If you were someone important or rich and had been in that arena, you were at the after party too.

This is when future fights were set in motion, where everyone interacted and put feelers out for next opponents. Yuuri hadn’t been to one of these events in over a year. Yet here he was, showered and changed, stepping out of the chauffeured BMW that Phichit had arranged and onto the busy street in Yokohama where everything was always happening. Minami had already gone in a seperate car with his girlfriend, more eager to socialise than anyone else. 

It felt so _awkward_ being back on a scene like this where everyone knew his name, where people called to him in greeting and nodded their heads in an apparent show of respect. He’d braced himself for this too, lost sleep over it as he thought about all the people he might come across, cars pulled into the valet parks behind them as everyone arrived, and he’d always known he’d have to return to this sooner or later. So he might as well start now. 

He felt good at least, contact lenses in, hair styled back, black on black suit that was tailored for a snug fit thanks to Phichit’s insistence. The dress slacks fit tight around his ass with a hem that stopped at the ankle, black dress shirt and black tie, and a black jacket that tapered his figure perfectly. Dressing up in this much clothing wasn’t so bad once in a while, especially when even Phichit let out a whistle when they’d first got changed. 

So he stuffed his misgivings about being here into the back of his mind and shared a high five with Phichit because Minami _won_ and Yuuri was his coach, that made it easy to pass through the wide open doors of the huge club with black glass exterior. Inside, he found the familiar feeling of his life from one year ago. 

It was the same as every other after party venue, everyone in their best dressed grouped around the bar or a table in pockets of conversation, old friends catching up who never got a chance to see each other. Even from the entrance Yuuri could see Minami was already surrounded by people wanting to congratulate him on his first step into the professional fight scene. 

It didn’t take long at all for Phichit and Yuuri to gather their own circle of people after they made their way to an empty stretch of bar counter to order drinks, non alcoholic for them both, because the effects of booze could mess with your training for days, and Yuuri liked to play it safe. 

The music rumbled low with a heavy baseline, that annoying volume where you had to talk louder or lean in to hear what anyone else had to say. And finally, Yuuri was too distracted to focus on the people around him or even on Phichit at his side. Looking out into the expansive club reminded him of something, the shadows and soft glow of dimmed lights, the sleek glass surfaces and luxury all around. The smooth high class vibe didn’t quite compare to somewhere else, to someone else. 

Now that the fight was over, no more stress or pressure, Yuuri was free to think about him again, and it was like those two weeks without seeing him came back with a vengeance as Yuuri’s thoughts were held under siege. He wouldn’t see Victor tonight like he thought he might have, the main event had been and gone. Maybe he could message him now.

So Yuuri endured as he thought about sending Victor a simple message, he _tried_ to maintain conversation and keep up with with the flow around him as people came and went. In the end, Phichit was busy talking about his next fight, pulling all the attention away from Yuuri’s fightless streak so Yuuri himself could avoid questions about when his next bout might be and against who. Yuuri’s phone was too heavy in his pocket to ignore, he was too tired, too exhausted after a huge day and weeks of being constantly busy, so he ended up thanking Phichit and stepping away to a more quiet corner to breathe, and to figure out what he was going to say in the message he’d decided to send at last. 

He didn’t even have his hand in his pocket before someone was already interrupting him. 

“Congratulations, coach.” a smooth voice drawled in Yuuri’s ear as the gentle pressure of a hand placed itself in the small of his back. Yuuri knew who it was in an instant, he’d know that voice anywhere. There was no need to send a message anymore.

The hand stayed where it was, only a _promise_ of something more as Yuuri looked up to see Victor standing by his side, smiling down at Yuuri. There was no mistaking the genuine and heartfelt congratulations in Victor’s eyes as they stood on the edges of the shadow shrouded room, face to face again after two weeks. 

And Yuuri was speechless as _he_ looked Victor up and down, blatantly checking him out. He could only thank whoever organised this event that they’d decided not to make it any darker in here, because he could see Victor enough to double take and then stare. 

It was only now that Yuuri understood the true appeal of all that formal wear in Victor’s wardrobe. Victor stood there, looking back at him with an unspoken hello wearing this navy blue three piece suit, regal and fitted in all the right places. Shined shoes, dress slacks tight around his thighs that Yuuri had no doubt were powerful and hard with muscle, white shirt, navy waist coat and impeccable navy embossed tie. It was all topped off by a navy jacket that highlighted everything about Victor like it was its soul purpose. The colour made his eyes glean, the fit made the angle of his shoulders stand out, the taper made Yuuri realise how thick Victor was in the chest. 

It made him realise all over again just how hot Victor was, just when he thought he was getting used to it. 

“Thanks…” and that was all he could manage to get out, because here they were in public, _this_ close when they’d never even been that close in Victor’s bedroom. And maybe that was the difference, because Yuuri didn’t mind it one bit.

“You look… exceptional tonight, Yuuri.” Victor loomed as he said it, words thick with awe. 

This was a bad time for Yuuri’s heart to start racing, because that praise was real. Victor _meant_ it with that pause as he tried to find a word that would fit. It wasn’t meant to incite Yuuri or stir him up, and it didn’t, it made him shy and _happy_ because it meant Victor liked how he looked with clothes on. 

The music kept playing, loud enough that the groups of people around them couldn’t hear, and Victor finally stepped an arms length away, eyes on Yuuri still. Yuuri hadn’t stopped staring yet either, because Victor looked _too_ good in a suit, alluring and charming, that gold ring ever present on his right hand. 

“You too,” Yuuri managed to admit, words fast and honest, “You look… your suit is amazing.” 

Victor’s eyes lit right up, his cheeks turning a shade of pink as he blushed, shameless of the fact. With a smirk, Victor pinched the lapel of his jacket. “ _This_ ratty old suit - “

“Oh, no way!” Yuuri cut in as he laughed at Victor’s joke nonetheless, amazed at how friendly their interaction was. Talking and laughing, _familiar_ with one another. “It’s practically new.” 

The rest of the club fell away from his attention when Victor edged closer then, smile vanishing as his eyes took Yuuri in once more, serious. “It is. I dress to impress, Yuuri.” 

“Impress who?” Yuuri asked without thinking, because there was no one who wouldn’t be impressed. New suit or not.

Victor leant closer still, and Yuuri’s heart was doing flips as it tried to break out of his chest. “I’ll give you one guess.” 

Two weeks apart hadn’t done a thing for those stupid naive strings. It felt like it’d done the opposite instead. Yuuri couldn’t decide if he was burning or freezing from those blue eyes, heart stopped now because he was too unsure of what he should say, of the words that might come out of his mouth. 

Once again, he was interrupted before he could even do anything, his attention pulled away from those blue eyes swallowing him whole as another person came into their space wearing a black suit with just as much confidence as Victor. 

Blond hair, sharp green eyes, a well built frame and a ring on his finger _nearly_ the same as Victor’s were all Yuuri noticed before the man opened his mouth. 

“So this is who you’ve been seeing, Victor?” 

Everything stopped when Yuuri heard those words, he felt his stomach drop at the on coming devastation that would hit him any moment now because someone else _knew_.

Except before Yuuri could panic, before that tunnel vision and shortness of breath could take hold, before he could absolutely freak out at the fact that Victor had told someone when he said he wouldn’t, Victor was there. In the quiet area where they were standing, unseen by most, Victor closed the small gap between them, his chest flush against Yuuri’s shoulder, and he took Yuuri’s hand to stand protectively at Yuuri’s side. 

The club around them carried on as normal, there were no alarm bells actually ringing out loud, no one was looking at them apart from the person Victor seemed to know, and the pressure as Victor’s calloused hand squeezed Yuuri’s own was enough. He felt the shape of Victor’s ring against his finger as Victor twined them together, the strength in Victor’s hand, the size of it compared to his. 

Yuuri had no fucking idea what was going on, the seconds that passed felt like eternity, and then Victor’s warm breath was ghosting against his neck as Victor leant down to whisper behind the shell of Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri was going to faint or melt, probably both.

“It’s okay, Yuuri, he doesn’t know, I promise.” Victor nuzzled further into his hair to whisper, nose pressed to Yuuri’s skin, “But we’ll have to play along with this, okay?” 

Victor squeezed his hand tighter then, tense and reassuring with his promise, on edge _for_ Yuuri because Victor obviously hadn’t meant for this to happen. So Victor waited for the breaths it took for Yuuri to try and understand what was going on, nose pressed in his hair still, fingers still twined together tight. And now Yuuri was internally screaming for a different reason, knees week at the simple notion of holding hands and feeling Victor’s breath on his skin, hearing that voice in his ear. The goosebumps down his spine were real, the heat in his cheeks, the heavy thump of his heart as it kick started and then raced away on its own. All he could do was squeeze back in answer, and the deep hum he got in his ear as a reply didn’t help at all. 

Yuuri almost felt _bereft_ when Victor pulled away from him, cold without Victor’s proximity as Victor let their hands part and turned away to look at the newcomer. 

“Is it that obvious, Chris?” Victor asked, his tone warm and friendly. 

“Obvious?” came the huff of laughter, “Even to a blind man you look like boyfriends.” the man called Chris deadpanned as he swirled the drink in his glass. 

Boyfriends. _Boyfriends_. That’s what they would have looked like standing there on the edge of the room, alone and smiling at each other. They were anything but. Now was about the time for Yuuri to short circuit and nearly panic again, because throwing that word around, even to cover things up, made everything more complicated. It made him uneasy, because it made him think about all that Phichit had said, it made him think that maybe Victor wanted to pay him for that too. Yuuri hadn’t signed up for this, but it was better than telling the truth.

“I guess there’s no hiding anything from you after all.” Victor looked to Yuuri then and offered an appeasing smile. “He’s the work colleague I told you about.” 

Chris laughed properly this time before he took a drink, “I’m your best friend, and it’s my job to spot things remember. I knew you had to be seeing someone. No wonder you wouldn’t tell me though, because it’s Katsuki Yuuri.” 

Now it made only a fraction more sense, it sounded like Victor had kept Yuuri’s name and their arrangement out of his life completely to avoid this Chris person putting any puzzle pieces together from that camboy show, except Chris had picked up on _something_ and had come up with a completely different picture. Yuuri looked between them, both tall and elite, both relaxed and joking with each other, they knew each other well. 

“So you weren’t even going to introduce me after I got the tickets this time?” Chris feigned offence, eyes sparkling with taunt before he turned to Yuuri to offer an outstretched hand, “I’m Christophe, nice to meet you. I’m a big fan. Your fighting style is really something.” 

That’s what pulled Yuuri right back into the conversation, surprised because he always was when someone said they were his fan, even more so when someone commented on his style. Both of their grips were strong and sure as they shook hands, Chris’s hand was calloused like Victor’s too, and Yuuri got the chance to see that the only difference in their rings was that Chris’s didn’t have that flying eagle atop the obsidian motif. 

“Thanks,” Yuuri answered, feeling more confident as he focused on the here and now instead with Victor standing right there beside him, “it’s nice to meet you too.”

“You’ll have to tell me how Victor managed to get one of the best fighters in the federation to date him sometime.” Chris chuckled as he shot another teasing glance at Victor, and it was easy to see their friendship now. “But it looks like I’m being told to go away so you two can talk some more.” 

Sure enough, Victor was giving Chris a commanding stare that said ‘not now’, his eyes sharp enough to make anyone else want to back away and retreat. Chris just winked at them both and raised his glass to Victor in this silent salute, and then he left them alone again in secluded area at the back of the club.

The music was still playing around them, no one at all had seen anything that’d happened, them holding hands or Victor whispering in his ear, it all carried on as normal. 

“I’m sorry,” Victor brought himself close again, his eyes glistening with his apology, expression sincere, “that shouldn’t have happened. It was the only thing that guy would have believed.” 

And it was easy for Yuuri to see that Victor was worried, eyebrows pinched together, breath paused as he looked down at Yuuri who’d just been moments away from freaking out. What was Yuuri meant to say to that? Anything he could say would only make it more complicated, the main thing for now was that Victor had kept his word, and that Victor was still the nice guy Yuuri was beginning to want him to be.

“No, it’s okay.” Yuuri breathed with a sigh, letting the tension he’d been holding from that encounter go. “It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s good then.” Victor was smiling again now, eyes smouldering, back to playful and charming in an instant. Yuuri wished he really wouldn’t do that. 

This one encounter had given Yuuri more things to think about and more things he _shouldn’t_ think about too, like what on earth the difference in those rings might mean and if it had anything to do with their work. It was still none of his business even if being that close to Victor turned him into a pathetic lump of muscle. There was no way he was going to get through the rest of the night now, not after this, not with Victor here. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Yuuri continued from where Chris left off, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he thought about the effect Victor had on him. 

“Oh.” and Victor’s eyes did that thing again where they sparkled along with his smile. And it was like Victor was thinking the exact same thing, that it’d been two weeks and he’d been thinking about Yuuri too, because he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled his car keys out, the trademark Ferrari gold stallion shining on the small black remote. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to get out of here? With me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could happen next??? *eyes emoji*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the wait! But here it is.
> 
> Watch out for wild typos.
> 
> And thank you so much Priya for the last minute help with Russian translation stuff!

Yuuri didn’t even need to think about it, the moment he saw those keys his mind had already made the choice for him. 

Staying here and trying to forget what’d just happened between him and Victor would be a useless effort. There’s no way he’d be able to hold a conversation with anyone else when he’d be too busy thinking about the way Victor’s hand had squeezed his. He’d dwell way too much on the gentle way Victor had nuzzled into his hair to whisper quietly to him. And more than ever that word ‘boyfriend’ would scream at him and render any attempts at socialisation useless. Quashing his thoughts and feelings for two weeks was now paying him back with a vengeance, those strings had tightened and secured their hold while Yuuri had been too busy to pay attention to them, and now he wanted nothing more than to go with Victor. 

The sole reason why was because after two weeks of not a word, after seeing him for only a few minutes and being taken in all over again by everything about Victor, was that Yuuri wanted more time with him. It would feel strange to cut it short now when before this they’d always had an hour. And maybe he didn’t want to leave Victor alone just yet because even if Yuuri didn’t really know him, somehow he knew Victor would only end up going back to that empty apartment to sit with his own solitude. Victor had helped him so much, and even though Yuuri had told himself time again again that it was none of his business, Yuuri could at least do this when he could.

Victor was still close, still smiling without an ounce of pressure for Yuuri to say yes even though Yuuri could see the hope in his eyes. The keychain on the end of his finger dangled between them as the question hung in the air, weighed heavy with music and pockets of conversations around them. The mood lighting made for poor visibility, it blurred the world around him apart from Victor, and Yuuri could still tell that Victor had his eyes on him only. 

“Yeah…” It was easy to say yes, easy to smile back because he’d be spending more time with Victor talking and finding out more about him, “I’ll go tell Phichit I’m leaving.” 

And his answer was the right one, because then Victor’s smile touched the corners of his eyes as Victor took another step closer to reach out and touch Yuuri’s arm like it was automatic, instinctual. Victor looked down at him, clad in his ridiculously handsome navy suit and charismatic air, and it seemed like for once it was Victor who didn’t know what to say. 

“Okay,” Victor’s breath was all hush in the private space between them, “I’ll meet you out front then?” 

Yuuri had no idea what he was in for, probably another insane ride home, more close proximity in that amazing car where he’d be way too aware of Victor’s overwhelming presence. 

“Alright then,” Yuuri decided that didn’t sound bad at all, “At least I know what car is yours this time.” 

“True,” Victor laughed and offered Yuuri a playful smirk that promised just as much mischief as the first time he took Yuuri home, “and it was a long drive back to Tokyo too.” 

Forty minutes from Yokohama to Tokyo by car, it wouldn’t be the ten short minutes like last time. With that in mind, he turned around and felt Victor’s eyes on his back as he left their quiet edge of the room to search for Phichit. 

Sure enough, he found his friend in the thick of it all, surrounded by people near the bar with his out of place glass of water and a carefree smile on his face. Everyone wanted to know when Phichit was going to defend his title, and of course Phichit would always do a good job of stringing people along to hype up the anticipation before his next fight was finally revealed. That was one thing Phichit always did better, he sold himself well and brought in big crowds as a result. The battle of egos before a fight was always a huge part of the build up. Yuuri was never any good at that sort of show ponying, especially not with Jean Jaques Leroy in his weight class, he’d made himself known as a man of little words instead. 

That didn’t mean people didn’t notice him as he stepped in to the circle of people, familiar faces and voices, old opponents that he called friends, fighters in different weight classes. He spotted the Crispino siblings, he saw Leo who he’d beaten two years ago, and Emil had come all the way from Czech Republic, all people Yuuri hadn’t seen for a long time. 

And of course Yuuri got swamped by greetings, there was a wolf whistle from Sara and a comment on his suit, a hug from Emil, a firm handshake from Michele, a smile from Leo, and all of the attention in the club was currently on the group at the bar and the high ranked fighters amongst it. It was inevitable really, after wading through it all that he’d get the question he’d been wanting to avoid most. 

_’When are you going to fight Jj Leroy?’_

He didn’t even know who’d asked, but now it was out there and it was time to go before anyone else pushed the subject of returning to fight the worst match up Yuuri could ever have. This wasn’t something he wanted to talk about in public with faces watching all around when even Celestino - his own coach -didn’t talk to him about it anymore. Some of those whispers grew, Yuuri knew people would pay to see that fight, the whole federation had been waiting for the clash between the larger than life King Jj and the silent challenger Katsuki Yuuri. Even thinking about it put his stomach in knots. But forcing a smile and a shrug was second nature to him now, and he managed to get hold of Phichit before it could become anymore of a topic of conversation. 

That’s when Yuuri forgot all about that question anyway, because Phichit’s mouth dropped open the moment he spotted Yuuri amongst the group, and then he was unceremoniously tugged to the edge of people where Phichit then took him by the shoulders to shake him like Yuuri needed to wake up.

“Phichi-“ Yuuri started to say until he was cut off by a wide eyed Phichit who was staring at him like he was an idiot. 

“Holy fucking shit, Yuuri, was that _him_?” and then Phichit’s hands were holding the sides of his head, keeping Yuuri’s face steady so he couldn’t look away and blush. “That was him right? The blue suit and blue eyes?”

All Yuuri could do was sigh and then nod his head because ‘holy shit’ was pretty much Yuuri’s reaction when he first saw Victor too.

“I… Shit. You really weren’t joking when you said he was hot. But oh my god, I saw you two together, Yuuri,” and Phichit was in this rambling state where his words were tripping over his tongue because he had too much too say all at once, “your eyes must be worse than I thought.” 

“What?! Why?” Yuuri bristled as he took Phichit’s wrists and pulled them away from his face.

“Yuuri…” Phichit deadpanned with a look that said ‘I’m so done’ on his face. “Did you not see how he looked at you?” 

Yuuri’s heart did a flip in his chest as he thought about that first moment he saw Victor tonight, he wondered what his face looked like then too. “What - no, he always looks at me like that.” 

Phichit’s mouth hung open once more as he processed what Yuuri said, and then he gave up with an exasperate sigh. “He… always looks at you like that?” 

“Pretty much…” Yuuri trailed off as he failed to come up with any other explanation whatsoever. Phichit was blunt and to the point, and he always told the truth. _’Even to a blind man you look like boyfriends’_ was what Victor’s friend had said, and it looked like Phichit thought the same. 

“I’ve got nothing, I can’t even think of a joke.” Phichit shook his head in disbelief before he looked around over top the heads in the room to find Victor, “Anyway, where did he go?” 

“Um. He’s waiting for me out front,” Yuuri explained in the space of a breath, because Phichit was going to flip again. “I’m going with him.”

Sure enough, Phichit cracked a blinding smile and clapped him on the shoulder again, “Yes! Oh my god, go! And don’t forget to call him daddy.” 

There it was again. Phichit never missed a chance, Yuuri was scowling as Phichit was laughing, and in the end Phichit was shooing him away as he said, “At least hold the poor man’s hand or something.” 

He let himself be pushed away nonetheless, thankful that Phichit didn’t care he was leaving without him. There was no doubt he’d pay for it when they saw each other again, he could already hear the questions and the teasing, and already Yuuri was smiling because Phichit always had a way of making him laugh about it anyway. 

It was easy to get out then, to nod and excuse himself as he passed people who wanted to talk to him, he was almost at the expansive foyer with the entrance just there where Victor would be waiting for him when something tugged at his arm and wouldn’t let him go any further. 

He looked down his arm at the hand on his sleeve and found a gold ring with an obsidian square motif, so close but so different to Victor’s without the eagle on top. Yuuri didn’t know why he should be nervous, but as he looked up to see Victor’s friend Chris staring at him with an unforgiving expression, nervous was what he was.

Those sharp green eyes held him on the spot, and Chris had that same unnerving composure and infallible presence that Victor did. And so they faced off as Yuuri failed to come up with anything to say. He kept his nervousness to himself as he wondered why this was happening. Maybe Chris knew the truth after all, maybe he’d figured it out, maybe he was going to say something. 

And Chris was searching Yuuri now, looking at his face and his tense body that was eager to leave because he didn’t want to keep Victor waiting. In the end, it all changed when Chris just sighed as his brows pinched together with concern and let go of Yuuri’s arm. “Be gentle with that guy, he might not look it, but he’s more fragile than you think.”

And _oh_ , that was the last thing Yuuri had expected to hear. Yuuri wasn’t oblivious, he wasn’t that useless at communication. He knew that was reaching out, that was pleading for Yuuri to be real with Victor, that was genuine advice from Chris to the person who he thought was his friend’s _boyfriend_. Here Chris was looking out for his friend, and Yuuri felt like he was intruding because it was a lie. And yet now he’d been told that Victor was _fragile_ of all things, that wasn’t something he had a right to know. 

Normally Yuuri wasn’t good at making decisions, he thought about things for too long when the answer was always simple. Just like it was now. This time though, it didn’t take him long at all because he already knew what to do - what he wanted to do. Yuuri was fragile too, he knew that well enough. Victor knew it too because he’d been kind every step of the way. So even if it wasn’t real, even if it was to cover up the real reason they knew each other, Yuuri could still put Chris’ mind at ease. 

He swallowed the lump in his suddenly dry throat before standing firm. “I won’t let him down.” 

“That’s good to hear.” Chris offered a smile before he turned around and left Yuuri where he was standing. Chris’ black suit vanished fast in the dark club lighting and dark colours of the walls, and Yuuri was once again left wondering what he’d really gotten himself into. 

He couldn’t think about that now though, it felt like hours since Victor had said they’d meet out the front even though it’d only been ten minutes. Yet finally he was leaving through the foyer and striding out the entrance into the night where the street wasn’t half as busy as what it had been on arrival. 

It was still bustling with people coming and going, women in short dresses and stilettos, men in their dress shirts with too many gold rings and too flashy watches. The music could still be heard in the crisp night air outside, sensual rolling bass and songs that were designed to make people dance close as the informal part of the night kicked off. Sleek polished cars pulled in and away from the curb for the valet parking. There was so much going on, so much moving in his line of sight, but he could still see Victor standing off to the side on the pavement - waiting. 

He was picturesque surrounded by the luxury cars on the street and high class vibe this whole club put off. But he was still standing alone in a place where the bright lights of the club could’t quite reach, his keys in one hand and the other tucked in his pocket. Yuuri could see people look at Victor, he saw them stare like anyone would. No one talked to him, no one even smiled because Victor had that expressionless face on that sent chills down the spine. It was imposing in this darkness, the width of his shoulders and sure stance of his legs. The last word Yuuri would ever use to describe the Victor he saw now was fragile. But Victor’s friend had been serious, that meant something _inside_ Victor was fragile, maybe his heart, maybe his soul - and something about that seemed so incredibly wrong to Yuuri. It was backwards, because the only word he could think of when he saw Victor like this was strength. 

How long Yuuri stood there staring he couldn’t say, but his internal ramblings were brought to an end when Victor turned his head to the entrance to find Yuuri standing there. That impassive expression transformed into a gentle, wordless hello, and Yuuri knew he was probably done for. 

Walking over to him was like seeing him tonight all over again, because he was so strikingly beautiful and before this Yuuri had never thought of a man as beautiful in his life. Once again he had to remind himself to _be_ himself.

“I thought you might have stood me up.” Victor teased with playful eyes as they came face to face once more and gestured the way down the street they should go. 

And that notion was so ridiculous that Yuuri could only open and then promptly close his mouth a few times in indignation before he finally blurted, “I wouldn’t do that.”

They’d turned down a narrow side street where traffic only went one way, the music from the main thoroughfare faded, the hiss of tires on the road grew distant, and there were only a handful of people keeping to themselves on the sidewalk now. 

The change in atmosphere was startling, especially when Victor stopped and _laughed_ like it was the most natural sound he could make. Yuuri stopped too, he turned around to look at Victor standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a blinding smile on his face like night time didn’t mean a thing. 

“It’s good to see you, Yuuri,” Victor simply said. 

And Yuuri knew exactly what Victor meant. After two weeks it really was good to see him again, to pick up that familiarity where they left off. “You too.”

They fell into step beside each other without another word, and Yuuri knew they were walking closer than they were before, only a mistimed step away from bumping shoulders. It was crazy how small his margin of personal space had become out in the open like this away from Victor’s apartment. He didn’t mind it, even if he didn’t know what it meant. 

The walk was brief, the air friendly as their dress shoes hit the pavement, they talked about the fights of the night that Yuuri had managed to catch news of after Minami’s bout. They’d all gone as Yuuri had predicted, and as it happened Victor had predicted the same too. 

It was surreal talking about the subject of his career and his life’s work with Victor, it was _easy_ to talk about it with him because it was clear it was a big interest of Victor’s too. Yet it was also awkward to talk about something that was only a fragment of what it’d once been for him. Before melancholy could hit him as they talked about fighting, before he could recall that euphoric feeling of victory when he’d stood in the octagon with Minami at his side - they rounded another corner and came to a gated carpark where Victor scanned a ticket to be let in. It was small, there were other markedly expensive cars in the lot just like Victor’s, and Yuuri couldn’t resist playing. 

“Didn’t want the valet drivers to drive your car?” Yuuri teased as his eyes landed on Victor’s glossy black Ferrari parked in the corner next to an office building. It was still just as unreal as the first time he’d seen it, this sleek monster of a vehicle with gold wheels and tinted windows that looked like it ate the other cars on the road for breakfast. 

Its headlights flashed once as Victor unlocked it with his keys, lighting up the entire carpark for that split second before Victor chuckled at him. “Yeah, who knows where they got their licence from, a cereal box maybe.” 

“Oh. That again!” And this time Yuuri tried and failed to cover his own laughter at what seemed to be their lame running joke. 

“I’m pretty sure you started it,” Victor teased right back with a spark in his eye as they neared the car. 

“What are you, five?” Yuuri countered before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth, his sarcasm automatic. 

They were only steps away from Victor’s car now, moments away from peeling off to go to different sides of the vehicle, and before their shoulders could drift apart Victor’s hand was on the small of his back again, pulling them both to a stop. The pressure was tentative and gentle as it was before, and with his looming height Victor looked down at Yuuri with the laughter still in his vivid blue eyes that stood out so bright against the backdrop of night.

“Actually I’m twenty seven, thanks for asking.” 

Yuuri stood there dumbstruck for a few heartbeats before it all caught up with him. Victor was _only_ twenty seven. Only four years older than him and yet worlds away from him. But right now Victor was so close, his eyes open and honest as his thumb traced a lazy circle against Yuuri's back. And once again, Yuuri thought he might either melt or faint. Instead Victor just laughed once more because it seemed he enjoyed rendering Yuuri speechless. 

“Shall we go now then, Yuuri?” Then he was stepping away and opening his car door, smiling as he watched Yuuri who rushed to do the same. 

* * *

Getting in that car was the same as before, the faint scent of musky cologne and the feel of smooth leather, the low rumble of the engine and the lights blaring onto the car parked in front. Victor’s right hand rested atop the gearstick of the imported Ferrari, his gold ring a beacon for Yuuri's curiosity. 

“At least the freeway will be quiet at this time of night.” Victor commented with a grin, his eyes all blue fire as he shifted the car into gear. The profile of Victor’s jawline as he looked ahead was wickedly handsome. Already Yuuri had butterflies, his entire body rigid as he waited for the ridiculous acceleration that would push his head back against the headrest. 

“Nervous?” Victor teased because he knew all too well what he was doing, sitting there with the engine idling to wind Yuuri up, to have him holding on to anything he could grab hold of when he let the car loose. Victor’s forearm was all too close, so was the hand on the gearstick. It was the wrong time to think about the last thing Phichit said to him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yuuri huffed a laugh back and forced himself to relax in his seat while Victor turned to watch his every move. The amusement was plain on Victor’s face as the dashboard lights glowed softly. 

“Oho? If you say so then.” That was the last thing Victor said before the car started moving. 

He had time to prepare himself at least as they pulled out of the park and Victor fed his ticket into the machine for the gate to open. Victor was all nonchalance and composure, his face carefully blank as his eyes looked forward at the road. 

It was almost breathless, so still inside the car apart from the growl of the engine and Victor’s hand shifting the gear stick as his foot let off the clutch. The drive through the busy streets of central Yokohama was as normal as it could be in a Ferrari as Victor manoeuvred through traffic, stopped at lights and generally followed the road rules. 

That did nothing to stop the anticipation building though, nothing to stop him from being wound up tighter and tighter as they neared the expressway exit and long stretch of road that led back to Tokyo. The exit sign got closer and closer, Victor flicked his indicator on and changed lanes. And suddenly it felt like he was falling because Victor put his foot _flat_ to the floor the moment they were in the expressway lane. 

Instant torque forced him back into his seat, had him laughing and yelling incoherencies as Victor changed gears with rapid shifts and a fast foot on the clutch. Victor finally cracked a triumphant smile at the same time as the Ferrari came to life and roared at full power. Yuuri had never accelerated so fast in his life, and they were going faster still. Lights sped passed, black and white scenery all a blur as other cars fell away behind them. Now he was breathless for real, heart thumping with adrenaline even though he was only a passenger. It was insane to go this speed, _mad_ , but it was so incredibly fun. 

There was no word to describe it, no feeling he’d ever felt before, and looking over at Victor with that same mischievous excitement in his eyes had his stomach flipping even as Victor slowed the car down to a somewhat normal speed. 

“Y-you’re crazy!” Yuuri gave up any nervous pretences he’d been holding onto as he laughed once more and relaxed in his seat for real now that they were doing close enough to the legal speed limit. 

Victor just chuckled, the corners of his eyes curling with his smug grin as he kept his eyes on the road. “I never said I wasn’t.” 

That was true too, and the realisation was sobering. Yuuri wondered how many other things Victor was that he didn’t know about. 

The world passed by in flashes of light amidst the darkness, streaks of pure white left in the dust as they got closer to Tokyo. Yuuri thought he’d been lucky to shake the mood he’d nearly found himself in when they were talking about the fights before, but as the quiet between them stretched out, as the distance to Tokyo grew closer, Yuuri knew he’d been wrong. 

There was no shaking that bone deep unease whenever it crept up on him, there was only the struggle to ignore it and the irritability when he couldn’t. There was no way it wouldn’t be obvious to Victor who’d decided to pick up their talk where they’d left off. 

“You looked happy to be in that octagon again tonight.” His tone was soft, without any intent to sting, and yet it stung all the same. Only because Victor was right. 

“Y-yeah... I was.” Yuuri sighed and looked out the car window on his side instead. Sometimes he couldn’t avoid it after all. “I was.”

And as much as he’d been looking at Victor tonight, as much as he’d stared - he couldn’t bring himself to do so now. Instead he heard Victor’s breath pause, he heard the start of a few cut off words before Victor finally pushed the subject.

“Yuuri,” Victor started, and it sounded like he was the one hurting, “I don’t think you understand how spectacular you are when you fight.” 

There was no running from this, not in this car he couldn’t get out of with a person who was trying their best to make this as painless as possible. 

“It can’t have been that spectacular to watch me pass out on the ground last year with a forearm around my throat.” It came out bitter and childish, and yet it was the truth of Yuuri’s ugly feelings whether he liked it or not. He threw his head back into the headrest and wished the memories of his last fight weren’t so easy to recall. The ringing in his ears as he passed out, the roar of the crowd, the commentator yelling Otabek’s victory - Yuuri’s broken win streak.

From the corner of his eye he saw Victor’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, a tension in his arms, and this was the point he always drove people to when talking about this. 

“That fight should have been called off and you know it as well as I do, Yuuri.” And Victor’s tone wasn’t harsh, it wasn’t sharp like Yuuri thought it might be, it was all gentle reasoning and logic.

The lump in Yuuri’s throat was back, mouth dry as he struggled. “Yeah, well it wasn’t.” 

This wasn’t what he pictured for their ride home at all, not this tension, this sense of caring. Not this revisiting something Yuuri had blocked out because even if he acknowledged what everyone else knew it still wouldn’t change the result. 

“You had food poisoning before that fight, Yuuri, everyone knows,” Victor sighed like it was a bad memory for him too. “You were white as a sheet before you even set foot in the cage. I was sitting right there.”

If Yuuri’s whole body wasn’t frozen in his seat, he would have flinched. It was no secret he got food poisoning from some seafood he’d eaten a few days before his fight in Beijing. He’d been only half recovered by the time fight day had rolled around, weaker, slower, more clumsy than he should have been. The doctor had cleared him anyway, yet it was Yuuri’s own stupid, _stubborn_ mistake because he could have pulled out. But his family had traveled, his sponsors promoted him, his friends supported him, Celestino had worked hard to prepare him - and so he’d fought anyway. He’d lost. And more than losing, Yuuri hated letting people down. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Yuuri’s protest was weak. 

“It does matter,” Victor’s comeback was instant and intense. He had no choice but to look at him properly to see the conflicted expression sitting so close next to him. “Yuuri… you still managed two whole rounds before you fell in the third. Everyone wants to see you fight again, including me. Can you really tell me you don’t want to?” 

With a breath held, Yuuri’s mind raced and yet any possible words he could say wouldn’t come out. He couldn’t understand why Victor would push this issue with him of all things. Victor could have pushed physical boundaries, he could have made Yuuri uncomfortable many times over already - and yet all he was doing now was making Yuuri realise he couldn’t lie to himself, or to Victor.

Yuuri had taken to staring out at the road again, billboards and signs of all different colours painting the night as they got closer to Tokyo. He didn’t see Victor reach over, he felt it first. A light touch on his thigh to grab his attention. Slender fingers lingered only a moment as Yuuri looked down at the gold watch peaking out from beneath Victor’s jacket cuff and that gold ring close enough for Yuuri to touch. 

Hypnotised, he couldn’t help but follow Victor’s hand back to the gearstick, nor could he help the path his eyes followed up Victor’s arm, up his shoulder and back to his face.

Victor looked over to him for only a breath before turning back to the road, a quiet struggle still on his face. “I know it’s not my place to be saying these things…”

Just how selfless was Victor to say something like that? Victor had every right to say something. He was the one who’d been paying for Yuuri’s life for the last five months because of what happened. If Yuuri made the decision to fight again then he wouldn’t need this arrangement, and Victor wouldn’t need to pay him. And that was another thing on his momentous pile of things to think about, because whether he fought or not - sooner or later this arrangement had to come to an end. 

“N-no. It’s fine. You can since - “ Yuuri cut himself off before he gave voice to the last half of his sentence. _’Since it’s your money.’_ had been right there on the tip of his tongue. Somehow he knew that at least would have been the wrong thing to say. They hadn’t talked about money since that first big payment into his account. He didn’t want to start now. 

“Since?” Victor prompted him to continue. 

“No, it’s nothing, sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Yuuri,” Victor offered after a time, his voice kind as the awkward conversation dissolved into comfortable silence for a while. The growl of the Ferrari filled in the spaces of two people thinking on their own, lost in their own mind as they made fast time back to Tokyo. 

Soon enough Yuuri started spotting things that told him he was only fifteen minutes away from home, ten minutes, then five minutes. Traffic grew dense after the expressway exit. The closer they got to the city centre the more times they had to stop at lights, give way to traffic, the more times Victor had to change gears with that gold ring moving right in front of Yuuri’s eyes. 

They’d shared glances the whole way, everything unspoken. Victor with his eyes full of charm and control - and then there was Yuuri, who was all too aware of how much that gaze affected him. 

Shibuya traffic was crazy as it always would because it was a city that never slept. Clubs and karaoke bars were still open, all night coffee shops and 24 hour bowling alleys. Taxis filled the streets with buildings towering high on all sides, night owls walked the pavement, it was all busy still, and now they were on the main road to Yuuri’s apartment. 

“So, where do you want to go?” Victor asked suddenly as they took off from a set of lights, thoughtful. And from Yuuri’s blank face and lack of answer, Victor could see Yuuri had no idea what he was talking about. Instead Victor smiled something cheeky and that really wasn’t helping Yuuri at all. “It would be a shame to end the night of your first win as coach like this, so I thought coffee at least, if that’s okay with you?” 

“ _Oh_.” And now it made complete sense to Yuuri, because leaving with Victor just so he could take Yuuri home seemed like an all too abrupt way to end the night after Victor had gone out of his way to ask him. This was out of his control already, because he was all too happy say yes. “There’s a Starbucks around the corner from my building that’s open until late.” 

* * *

Victor found a park on the street only a few minutes walk from Yuuri’s apartment. The trains had just stopped, and the side walk was teeming with people - sober, drunk, in groups, alone, quiet, loud. The Ferrari rumbled to a stop and turned all heads as they got out of the car, and like it was an everyday occurrence, Victor paid them no attention. 

It was strange to get out of the car with Victor in his blue suit and Yuuri in his black suit, because he was all too aware now that it would look like they were together. Not even in a romantic sense, just _together_ in the sense that they were associated with each other, people would make assumptions based on their suits and decide that maybe they were from the same walk of life when it was anything but. It was also strangely satisfying to consider the fact that people might think he belonged in Victor’s company anyway, because Victor didn’t look at anyone on the street at all, not an ounce of his attention left Yuuri as they came together again on the footpath. They might as well not even be outside of Victor’s apartment, because the attention he gave Yuuri now was just as intense. 

Victor looked him up and down right there on the side walk, appraising and appreciative. “You’re convinced I can drive now, hm?” Victor smirked, playful.

“I’m not sure,” Yuuri said back, feigning uncertainty, “some of it was pretty rough.” 

He saw the exact moment the challenge ignited in Victor’s eyes as they stepped towards the doors of the coffee house. “Oh? Guess that means I’ll have to take you for a ride again so you can be sure.” 

Every single word was loaded, Yuuri knew. Saying yes meant a next time outside of their arrangement, and that meant crossing the line which Yuuri had probably already crossed tonight just by being here. 

He’d already decided it was too late anyway, the hand on the small of his back again as Victor followed him through the door told him exactly that. It was firmer this time, a flat palm against his body that he could feel clearly. 

“Is this okay?” Victor whispered the question in his ear from behind, breath warm on Yuuri’s neck, and Yuuri was pretty sure the friction between his jacket and Victor’s skin could set him aflame. “I figured since it’s outside of.. you know.” 

Outside of Victor’s bedroom. A thought that’d crossed Yuuri’s mind more than once tonight, because that’s where the line seemed to be when it came to the boundaries they’d both agreed on. The flush in his cheeks was probably all too obvious, Yuuri was starting to like the fact that they both agreed those boundaries weren’t the same outside of Victor’s apartment. 

“Y-yeah. It’s okay.” What came over him then as they stood in line to place their orders, he had no idea. It’d been a long day, Phichit’s last words were in his head, and maybe he was more naive than he first thought. Still, he shuffled back against Victor’s hand to increase the pressure, and hearing Victor’s breath catch in his throat made Yuuri’s heart race double time. 

The ambient setting in the Starbucks was private, everyone kept to themselves at their various tables and booths at this time of night, it felt like just the two of them standing alone at that moment in time, Victor’s hole body stiff against his. 

The theory of self combustion was clear to Yuuri then, because Victor’s breath resumed on the back of his neck, and that hand trailed around to grab him by the waist and pulled him closer. 

“What do you want? I’ll get it for you.” Those words were thick and low in his ear, and they sounded like they were asking him about anything except coffee. Victor’s grip tightened, his fingers dug into Yuuri’s jacket for a split second, and Yuuri’s breathing wasn’t as steady as it should be. 

“Black coffee is fine,” Yuuri managed as Victor hummed in his ear. 

Respite came when Yuuri went to find them a booth in the corner with leather seats and high backing, away from anyone curious enough to look at the two men in suits who’d been standing a little too close together in line. 

Flustered was an understatement at this point, he’d only managed to settle his heart enough when Victor sat down in front of him with a tray carrying both their coffees - long and black. 

Neither of them had sugar, neither of them paid much attention to their coffees at all. Yuuri only managed to stare down at it to distract himself as it cooled down. 

Victor Nikiforov - whoever he really was, the person who paid Yuuri larges sums of money to strip down naked on his bed - perfect in his three piece suit, was sitting across from him in a Starbucks of all things, drinking plain black coffee exactly like Yuuri. He looked so out of place with his silver hair, gold jewellery and his Ferrari parked out front, Victor didn’t seem to care about any of that either. He was a gentleman even now, he made sure Yuuri’s coffee was okay before even touching his own. 

“Once again, congratulations on coaching Minami to his win,” Victor said, and at the same time his long legs stretched out underneath the table, shoes bumping into Yuuri’s own. 

“Thank you.” Yuuri made no effort to move his feet as he picked his drink up, smiling over the rim of the cup before he took a sip. 

The way they fell into silence seemed to be a natural order of things for them, because the next few minutes then were spent drinking coffee with their feet tangled together under the table. 

"Maybe we can go to a place better than this one day.” Victor commented aloud after half their coffees were gone. There was no pressure, no real question, but they both knew exactly what it meant this time - that there really would be a next time.

"I like katsudon, and ramen, and sushi,” Yuuri stated, making his own answer clear. 

Seeing the way Yuuri’s answer affected Victor was bad for his heart. The pleased smile he got in return, the sparkling eyes and contended hum. This really shouldn’t be happening, but it was. 

Victor put a finger to his lip, eyes alight, pensive expression on his face as he cocked his head in thought. “I know a few places we can go.” 

* * *

They left their empty cups on the table in the corner after they dragged their drinks out for as long as they could while their legs touched under the table. The space between them was charged and heavy, and even though they didn’t touch once while leaving through the door, Yuuri still felt Victor’s eyes on his back all the same. 

The main street was still just as busy as before, thousands of city lights, billboards and establishments all lit up the street in hundreds of different colours - the ground view of what Victor looked down on from his apartment window. Like in Yokohama, they fell into step next to each other, but instead of heading back to the Ferrari, Yuuri turned left in the direction of his apartment building and wondered what on earth was going to happen now. No matter how comfortable they were with each other now, Yuuri was still no good at goodbyes. 

“Might as well walk from here.” Yuuri shrugged as he found nothing else to say, his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll walk you.” Victor offered, his voice all breath as they walked side by side - not as close as before because of the impending goodbye they could both feel coming. 

The night air was cold on his face after the few minutes it took to get to his building, they hadn’t said another word, and Yuuri was all too aware of Victor’s presence next to him anyway. It was when they got to the alcoved entranceway of his apartment that they faced each other again. 

Before things could turn awkward, before Yuuri didn’t know what to do, Victor was already doing everything. They were so close to the door, standing away from the traffic of the street in private, and Victor was standing even closer. He was looking down at Yuuri like he’d done so many times before, from head to toe, inside and out. Whether Yuuri shivered because he was cold or not he couldn’t say, but that feeling of Victor looking right through him would never stop being intimate to him. 

“I’ll see you on Monday then?” Victor drawled the question that didn’t need asking. The two weeks was over, Minami’s fight was done, it would be back to their three nights a week. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” Yuuri was shifting on his feet now, fidgeting under Victor’s renewed intensity all directed at him. He was also _reeling_ because after tonight he knew those shows weren’t going to be the same - not when their attraction was so blatantly obvious to them both. It was going to get so much harder, probably literally. 

Yuuri was going crazy, he knew what this felt like - what it wasn’t- this felt like the end of a date when things were coming to a close and neither side knew if they should make a move. So Victor just smiled once more, his lips a gentle curve as he opened his mouth. 

The one thing that Yuuri did know people did at the end of dates was kiss, it was the natural course of things when people were attracted to each other. And so before Victor could say whatever was on his lips, Yuuri was kissing them instead. In a burst of whatever courage the coffee had given him, he took Victor’s silk tie in his fist and tugged at the time as he rose onto his tiptoes. 

It was only a peck, but his pulse was running on overdrive in his veins, cheeks burning, hands trembling. Just a _peck_ , and yet their lips hadn’t parted, Victor hadn’t moved, his body rigid, eyes wide in front of Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri had made a terrible mistake.

“What was that for?” came the bated whisper against his lips. 

Oh, Yuuri knew exactly what it was for, he didn’t kiss just anyone, even if it was a knee-jerk reaction. He _liked_ Victor, and things had become much more complicated in the space of one night than he thought possible. Victor was still waiting for an answer, neck still bent with his tie bunched in Yuuri’s fist, body still taut. 

“Because I… never mind.” There was no way he could say that now, not when this was the reaction he’d gotten. 

His heels hadn’t even come back to the ground before Victor was answering him in a rush of breath. “I mind, Yuuri.” 

Then, Victor was kissing him back, and that feeling of falling from before was nothing compared to this. It was slow, gentle and so insanely heated Yuuri thought he might die. A languid swipe of tongues, and then it was open mouthed and breathy even though Yuuri had stopped breathing altogether. 

Victor pulled him close, their bodies flush with an arm around his waist, and that hand that’d reached out to touch his face two weeks ago did so now, fingers soft on his jaw, thumb caressing his cheek. 

Every single one of Yuuri’s mental functions was failing him, and before his knees could give out - because apparently that wasn’t just reserved for movies and romantic novels - their lips were parting just enough for Yuuri to look up and see the rapt look on Victor’s face. His pupils blown, his mouth parted - Victor was speechless. Yuuri was too.

That thumb was still stroking his cheek, arm still around his waist, their bodies still flush, and Yuuri was too stunned to move as Victor straightened up and kissed his forehead. 

And just when he couldn’t be any more surprised, any more stupefied, Victor proved him wrong. 

Victor breathed the words into his temple like a secret he’d never spoken out loud but had rehearsed a million times. “ _Spokoynoy nochi, moyo Solnyshko._ ” 

With one last touch of Yuuri’s cheek, Victor stepped away with a longing smile and left Yuuri standing there under the alcove to wonder what the hell Victor had just said to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spokoynoy nochi, moyo solnyshko = goodnight, my sunshine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typos as usual XD 
> 
> Also I'd really like to take this chance to thank everyone for their amazing comments and feedback. I know I am somewhat silent on the ao3 front, but believe me when I say I read each and every comment and appreciate every single one of them. They mean a lot, so thank you.

There was no such thing as calming down after that.

He’d watched Victor round the corner and disappear from sight before he managed to walk into his apartment building with his heart still going too fast, his knees still too weak.

It was that same uncanny feeling after being kicked in the chest - winded with the breath forced from your lungs, your heart going crazy as you desperately tried to breathe again. It was like that moment after a blow to the head where the world spins for a bit, ears ringing, focus all but gone.

Yuuri was flustered beyond belief, he couldn’t even believe that he’d gone and kissed Victor first. First kisses like that were meant for movies and dramas, not real life. Not Yuuri, who got paid to strip and get himself off three nights a week by the person he’d just kissed. Not him, who’d only started this thing in the first place because he needed money and cam shows had been a quick and anonymous way to get it. What’d happened from there was something that shouldn’t be real either. It’d happened though. Victor and his four month spree of paying top dollar for exclusive shows online, it’d changed to meeting at his apartment for even _more_ money, to Yuuri actually becoming attracted to Victor over the space of a few weeks, to deciding he liked him in the space of a night. Then, kissing him that night too.

One of Yuuri’s biggest problems was overthinking, and right now his brain wouldn’t stop. He was meant to be exhausted, he was meant to want to fall into bed after a long, nerve wracking day. He was meant turn his alarm off and wake up sometime after lunch for once because after weeks and months of preparation with Minami: it was finally over. Minami won, that pressure was gone until Minami’s next fight was arranged, he was _meant_ to relax and be at ease.

Of course Yuuri was still happy, but he was also a whole new sort of uneasy, as well as incredibly confused and stupidly giddy because Victor _kissed him back_. Not only that though, he’d also wrapped his arm so secure around Yuuri’s waist and touched his cheek much too tenderly for Yuuri to comprehend. Yuuri was still reeling, because it felt too natural, too easy to relax in Victor’s arms like that because he could feel the _devotion_ emanating from Victor’s every touch. And as if that didn’t already have Yuuri wanting to melt into a puddle of boneless muscle, then Victor had kissed his forehead so _softly_ , so astoundingly gentle that Yuuri didn’t want it to end. His skin still tingled. After that: Victor whispered something to him that sent shivers down his spine, Yuuri couldn’t understand the words themselves, but oh, he knew how they made him feel. They made him feel hopelessly overwhelmed in the most contradictory way.

He made it into the elevator, up to his floor, into his apartment, and even halfway to his bedroom before he decided that there was probably nothing he could do about the feeling in his chest. He could go for a run, do endless pushups on his bedroom floor, he could have a cold shower and try to shock it from his system. None of it would work. So in the end he ended up throwing himself onto his bed - fully clothed in his suit - and burying his face under his pillows to try and hide his smile even though it was dark.

It wasn’t every day the person you liked - someone like Victor Nikiforov - kissed you back. Yuuri didn’t have that kind of luck - except that ever since he’d come into contact with Victor that’s exactly what he’d had.

Yuuri knew one thing at least, that even though it was going to be different, that even though it was going back to their rules and their set arrangement: he was looking forward to Monday.

* * *

The evening with Victor played over and over in his mind; the way Victor had taken his hand without hesitation, how close he’d been as he’d whispered into Yuuri’s hair with Chris standing right there beside them. The _pressure_ of Victor’s hand that found its way to his lower back more frequently as the night went on, the increase of that pressure, the way Victor made it more and more obvious that he _wanted_ to touch. He thought about that tight, breathless feeling when Victor had pulled him in by the waist at the coffee shop. Victor’s _voice_ when he’d simply said _’what do you want? I’ll get it for you?’_ was enough to set Yuuri on fire again. Then he thought about their legs touching under the table - Victor’s calves under his pant leg solid with muscle.

And of course, he thought about everything that happened under the alcove in front of his apartment. Phichit normally teased him for being emotionally illiterate, Yuuri didn’t get worked up over romance, over boys or girls or feelings outside of his career. Yet here he was now drowning in all sorts of feelings.

It took him hours to fall asleep. Eventually though, his internal screaming fell silent enough for him to get some rest.

* * *

When Yuuri woke up it was 11:56am, and there was more than a handful of notifications on his phone. He’d slept through every single one of them. A message from Sara, an instagram notification from Emil who’d managed to take a selfie of them both last night and had tagged him. There was a message from Leo too: saying he hoped to see Yuuri think about fighting Jj more seriously. A sombre thing to receive from someone Yuuri had beaten in the first round of their only match, naturally you’d want the person who’d beaten you to go on winning for pride’s sake - and it was no secret Leo had no love for the egotistical King JJ.

On top of all that: there was endless snapchats from Phichit and his sober but still fun night out, more instagram tags from him of the selfies they’d taken before they’d even got to the venue last night, and of course there were multiple messages asking questions that Yuuri couldn’t answer in text.

Yuuri read them all. The obligatory _’what happened? what are you doing?’_ , the _’what time did you get home? are you even home?’_ , the _’Yuuri, I’m dying.’_ , all the way through the messages Phichit sent this morning.

By the time Yuuri got to those he was already laughing. _’Breakfast today?’_ was the first message at 10:04am. The next message at 11:10am was: _’I’m getting us breakfast.’_ , and the last message only five minutes ago read: ‘ _Wake up boi I’m on my way with food.’_

The promise of food was enough to get Yuuri out of bed, and enough for him to realise he was still in his suit which was now hopelessly creased and wrinkled. Since there was nothing he could do for it now he started undressing as soon as his feet hit the floor. One item of clothing after another, he threw it all on his bed behind him, his jacket, his waistcoat, his tie, his shirt and pants. Then he decided that because it was a day off that any other clothing apart from his briefs was overrated.

So that’s how he answered the door when Phichit knocked not even two minutes later, it was no big deal to either of them, they trained half naked, showered and spent time at the family onsen in Hasetsu, the only reason Phichit had clothes on is because he had to go out and get food.

Days like this were always unceremonious; he opened the door to find Phichit with a massive shit eating grin on his face before he strolled on in and kicked his shoes off. And like it was his second home - because it was - Phichit walked to the lounge with coffee and two bags of greasy fast food that their nutritionist would never allow them to eat if it weren’t a celebration breakfast, and plopped himself on the couch.

Yuuri followed as Phichit turned the flatscreen on with the remote from the coffee table and then unpacked the breakfast bagels and mandatory hash browns. He sat down next to him and dipped his head in thanks before they both started eating, because when your job was to train for hours every single day your appetite grew in kind. As such, they were both starving.

This sort of silence from Phichit was always antagonistic, the smug smile, the feigned indifference as he looked over at Yuuri who tried and failed to think of where to start his explanation. It was a look that said _’I know something happened but I’m gonna let you stew in silence for a bit.’_  
Phichit was a brother to him in everything but blood, his sparring partner, his best friend, but sometimes he could be too cheeky for his own good.

And so Yuuri only shrugged and smiled back as he continued eating, determined not to crack or give in and say something first. It was only lucky that Minako wasn’t here too or he’d be fighting a losing battle. That was how their meal went, bright midday light shining through the window in front of them, the only noise in the apartment was the TV on the right hand wall playing an advertisement for an ab exercise machine and weird multivitamins. From the corner of his eye he could see Phichit look at him every now and then, he could almost _hear_ every question on the tip of Phichit’s tongue as they finished and then sat back to relax with coffee.

Of course Phichit waited until the exact moment that Yuuri had the scalding hot paper cup up to his lips before he finally spoke up.

“So you did you hold his hand or call him daddy or…?” And Phichit asked it so _casual_ , so easily as if he hadn’t been dying since the moment he stepped foot in the door.

It was that which made Yuuri abruptly swallow a mouthful of too much hot coffee because he didn’t want to spit it all over himself. Phichit listened with innocence on his face as Yuuri had a massive coughing fit after choking on his drink. He just sat there and waited as Yuuri beat at his own chest to cough up the liquid that’d gone down the wrong way before Yuuri finally turned to Phichit with a deadpan glare.

“Nnnn, really? You waited until I was my drinking my coffee?” Yuuri put his cup back on the table in front of them and then gave Phichit his full attention.

“Free coffee though.” Phichit just laughed and kicked his feet up onto the table with a self satisfied grin because he’d still gotten the reaction he wanted out of Yuuri.

Yuuri looked down at the huge cup that Yuuri always asked for the morning after any night they spent out, a long black with an extra shot and no sugar to wake him up, and it was only then that he realised the Starbucks cup would have come from the very place he’d been with Victor last night. That meant it was time for it to come rushing back to him all at once, time for him to stare at the cup as he thought about the taste of coffee on Victor’s lips. It was so much better last night than it was now.

“So?!” Phichit cut into Yuuri’s flash back with his incredulous question, he’d finally had enough of waiting and was now sitting cross legged on the couch facing his direction. “What happened? You can’t tell me nothing happened that’s not allowed because I got you breakfast.”

Everything wanted to come out of his mouth in the same breath: the drive home, the talk in the car, the coffee shop not-date, the short awkward walk home before Yuuri _took_ Victor’s fucking tie and yanked on it so he could kiss Victor goodnight. Phichit was fidgeting in his seat, eyes intent on Yuuri as he struggled to come up with something short that would get it all out.

“So we went to that Starbucks last night after the drive home and practically cuddled in line, then he played footsies with me under the table after he got our coffee. Then we walked home and _I kissed him_ and then he kissed me back and then he kissed me on the forehead, oh my god Phichit on the _forehead_ , then he whispered something to me in Russian that made me want to die it sounded so good. I couldn’t even _breathe_ when he looked at me afterwards.” Yuuri let it all out in one go without pausing, verbal diarrhoea until he ran out of air and couldn’t breathe just like he hadn’t been able to last night.

So Yuuri sat practically puffing on the couch as he recovered from his outburst, and it was Phichit’s turn to look like he’d been given a blow to the head. His friend sat there with his mouth open, eyes wide, speechless for once in his life as he tried to take it all in. In the end Phichit just shook his head in disbelief and took a deep breath.

“Wait.. hold up. _You_ kissed him?” Phichit asked, his eyebrow quirked.

“I- his tie was right there for me to pull!” Yuuri blurted because that’s exactly how his body felt last night when he’d taken that soft fabric in his fingers, unsure of what to do but sure enough of what he wanted.

“You pulled his tie?!” Phichit was hooting now, shit eating grin back on his face as he cackled. “Woah, Yuuri, you made a move on _that_.” By that Phichit was talking about Victor - someone who was too amazing for Yuuri to wrap his head around. Too handsome, too kind, _much_ too kind to Yuuri.

“I guess I did…” Yuuri sighed as the nerves from last night haunted him. That lingering adrenaline from being in Victor’s arms - having Victor’s _tongue_ in his mouth - was still so fresh, he couldn’t help biting his lip as he recalled the sensation.

Phichit seemed to be proud of that, because he leant over to the table and picked up Yuuri’s coffee and offered it to him with a wink. “I know I told you to hold his hand, but damn, straight for the kiss. I can’t remember the last time you cared about kissing someone.”

Yuuri took the chance to take another sip of his coffee as he thought about what Phichit just said. It was true. He’d never done anything impulsive like kiss someone out of the blue like that - not with any of his old relationships that always ended up fizzling out because he was too busy training. With Victor though, he’d _wanted_ that kiss. One sip of coffee turned to two as he mulled it over.

That was when Phichit took another chance to throw him off and fluster him all over again. “So you’re boyfriends now then?”

Another mouthful of too much liquid, more coughing and choking until he could gasp his answer to Phichit who was looking at him with an innocent face. “What? No! We still - that arrangement…”

His cup went back on the table so Yuuri could throw his head back and sigh at the ceiling. Yuuri depended on his arrangement with Victor, but Victor paying for that and them actually being boyfriends at the same time wasn’t something he knew how to handle. He’d been determined not to cross that line, and now that line was blurred.

“Oooh, yeah. That’s gonna make things pretty awkward,” Phichit spoke his mind without mercy, thinking out loud even as it made Yuuri flinch.

“Thanks for pointing that out,” Yuuri deadpanned. He looked back over to his friend who seemed to think Yuuri’s plight wasn’t that big of a deal, “What am I going to do?”

Phichit just shrugged. “I dunno, give the money back so you can date him instead if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Yuuri bristled even more than he had before. “I can’t. I need that money, that’s how I ended up in this mess remember.”

“Hah! Seems like a pretty good mess to be in from what I’ve seen,” Phichit shot back, tease in his voice. When Yuuri said nothing it was his turn to sigh, because even he knew when Yuuri wanted actual words of advice. “Seriously though, earn some of your own then so you don’t need that money, get back in the octagon.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Yuuri’s voice came out empty of any feeling.

“I’m just sayin’ what you already know, Yuuri. Celestino still raves about being your coach.” The tone his friend was using now was neutral, without pressure - it was no secret to Yuuri that Phichit wanted to see him back in the ring too. Phichit wanted to shout and cheer for his friend and be there for him if the moment ever came that Yuuri got to vault up onto the side of that cage with a title belt around his waist for the world to see.

“I hate it when he does that,” was all Yuuri said.

Phichit shrugged again before changing the subject back to Victor, still intent on talking about Yuuri’s problem that he thought wasn’t much of a problem at all. “It’s not like you _can’t_ go out with him now.”

Yuuri groaned and pressed the palms of his hands to his forehead as his mind raced. “I know, I just don’t want to feel like I’m being paid for it. That’s too weird.”

“Not weird enough to kiss him though a least!” Phichit’s grin was back now, his eyes all mischief as he finally moved back to the subject he was dying to know all about. “So are you going to tell me what happened properly or are we playing twenty one questions?”

Naturally, Yuuri told him everything he could remember, and Phichit listened like Yuuri’s life was straight out of some drama, that was before Yuuri left him on the cliffhanger that was Victor whispering to him in Russian at the entrance to the building.

“So what’d he say?!” Phichit pressed, leaning forward with his wide eyes. “I’ll google it.”

“Argh, I don’t know. Something like spoko - noch… nysh - I don’t remember!” Yuuri was dying just as much as Phichit, this is something he wanted to know too, desperately. You didn’t just whisper to someone like that as you held them close, that sort of thing was reserved for the precious, the treasured, and it was insane because in that moment that’s exactly the way Victor had made him feel.

“How do you not remember?” Phichit deadpanned like Yuuri had forgotten his own name.

“Because my pulse was too busy pounding in my ears that’s how,” Yuuri shot back and then promptly snapped his mouth shut because he hadn’t meant to say that.

Frozen on the couch next to him, Phichit’s mouth was hanging open again - stunned at Yuuri’s confession. “Woah. _That_ crazy, huh?”

All Yuuri could do was nod and look at his empty paper cup in front of him.

Phichit hummed in thought for a few moments before he gave up. “I’d say it sucks to be you, but right now I’d say it’s pretty good instead.”

“Phichit…” Yuuri punched his friend on the leg as they fell into the relative silence of his apartment. They spent the rest of the day snoozing on his couch and playing video games like they rarely got to, and Yuuri found himself finally relaxing.

* * *

That relaxation didn’t last long, one free day spent with Phichit and another night’s sleep, and it was Monday already.

Monday: his first day back with Victor after two weeks. The anticipation was right there in his gut the moment he opened his eyes. It was there throughout breakfast too.

Monday’s used to just be another day of getting up early and training, going through the same motions of working his body, stretching, showering, and then coaching. This morning he didn’t even have Minami to coach after his own session because he was taking it easy after working hard for so long.

Yuuri should have known his own coach would make use of the extra free time, he should have known that Celestino was probably just waiting for this exact morning now that his commitment to Minami wasn’t as pressing. As it was though, his agility session with Celestino was more intense than it’d been in months. It seemed that Celestino knew about the question that’d been asked back at the post fight venue on the weekend, and Celestino was _more_ than ready to throw Yuuri right into fight prep so he could go against Jj - and it showed.

That’s how he ended up absolutely drenched in sweat, worked to the bone, chest heaving as Celestino pushed for more, and then even more. Phichit and everyone else watched with a critical eye - no one had seen Yuuri work like this for a long time. Sweat ran down his bare chest, dripped from his hair, his sparring shorts were soaked - and Yuuri’s famed stamina was put to the test as Celestino wrung every once of power from Yuuri’s legs that he could.

Yuuri should have been grateful, all he could think about while Celestino called for him to kick his sparring mitts was keeping up and not passing out. This state of exhaustion is where the real work happened. When your lungs _screamed_ for air, throat tight, head pounding as it struggled to command the body as fast as it could. These moments were when the fight was either won or lost, where one wrong move could make or break it, and Celestino was intent on keeping Yuuri in that zone for as long as he could.

So for the whole morning while he was training: Yuuri couldn’t afford to spare even a single thought about Victor. That was his only respite however, because then it was off to the gym showers to rinse himself off, and then back out onto the stretching mats to take care of his muscles.

The extra time he had to spend stretching _was_ spent thinking about Victor, and that anticipation hit him hard as he sat with his legs as far apart as they’d go so he could reach forward and touch his palms to the floor in front of him. His flexibility had come in handy whenever Victor asked him to do things, and he had no doubt it would keep doing so.

Yuuri was thorough, he stretched every part of his body for a good hour before he decided it was time to call Minami and ask how his body was doing with the rest.

It was Monday, he _tried_ to keep busy, to keep moving because the clock was going too slow, it felt like he had more time to wind himself up, like the minutes lasted that much longer because they knew he was waiting. He ended up eating lunch in silence with Phichit who seemed to be content with leaving Yuuri alone for now. He went for a huge afternoon run, showered, dressed, took his suit to the dry cleaner, cleaned his apartment, and finally it was time for him to make his way to Victor’s apartment.

After two weeks he was nervous all over again, he had no idea what Victor was going to be like this time when he opened that door. Everything had changed on the weekend, Yuuri just didn’t know how yet.

So he knocked on the door a few minutes before 7pm - as early as he’d allowed himself to be - and only waited a few moments before he heard the tell tale sign of the door mechanism unlocking. Yuuri was already holding his breath, already bracing himself for the onslaught that was Victor’s attention. It turned out he’d been absolutely right to do so, because it was enough feeling Victor’s eyes _devour_ him as Victor stood there at the door in his usual white dress shirt and fitted black slacks. He was faced with that open look of hunger and greed that Victor hadn’t bothered to hide the last time he’d been at this apartment, the look that Victor had kept to himself during their not-date on the weekend.

It was with that look that Yuuri already knew this was going to be a mess - that he was going to end up as that mess.

“Early, Yuuri? You couldn’t wait, hm?,” Victor teased, and _oh_ that voice was back again and it was too soon for Yuuri to be hot under the collar.

With a scratch of his head and his cheeks on fire, Yuuri still managed to look Victor in the eye, the show had already begun after all. “Something like that, yeah.”

The way Victor’s mouth parted into a surprised ‘o’ in response reminded Yuuri just how satisfying it’d been to get a reaction out of him, it also reminded him how _hard_ it’d been to get Victor to even crack a tiny bit, to make him bite his lip or better yet: growl. Victor’s smirk quickly returned however, and he went back to looking at what he was paying for -Yuuri’s body- as they fell into their past routine of electric silence as Yuuri entered the apartment and took his shoes off.

It was stifling being back, and yet Yuuri noticed that Victor was staying _far_ away, he wasn’t looming close or breathing on his neck, he wasn’t an arm’s length away where he could reach out and touch Yuuri at any given moment. No, the space between them was the biggest it’d ever been, an increased distance that Yuuri knew was probably for his own good.

The tension built as Yuuri took himself down the hall towards Victor’s bedroom, with each step he was shy all over again, because he’d fucking kissed that person who was currently looking like he wanted to eat Yuuri alive, and it was insane to think he’d been the one to make the first move.

Victor’s room was just as impersonal as it was before, spotless, perfect, picturesque with that breath taking view of the city to his right. The bed was made for him as usual too, a small tube of lube waiting for him to make use of.

The pit of his groin twisted as he took it all in, as Victor went ahead and sat himself down in that black chair to give himself a perfect vantage point to watch Yuuri from. With an exhaled breath, Yuuri dropped his bag at the door, took his glasses off and took a step towards the bed.

His zip up jacket was already on the floor behind him when he got to the edge of the mattress, his t shirt too, Victor wasn’t paying any attention to those. Victor’s pupils were sharp and intent on taking in every inch of Yuuri’s skin as he exposed it, he followed the movement of Yuuri’s hands to his belt, then to the closure of his jeans, and _that’s_ when Victor decided to speak.

“Slow, remember,” Victor reminded him in a drawl, his tone oozing heat.

There was a problem with those instructions for this first time ever: Yuuri didn’t want to go slow. He was already hard, already throbbing, cock pressed against his black briefs, more than obvious with his zip undone and jeans pulled open.

“Desperation looks good on you, Yuuri,” Victor commented as he leant back in his chair, those eyes unrelenting in their reverence.

It was already this much of a struggle, Yuuri had to shut his eyes and _force_ himself to pull his jeans down slow, to wiggle his hips the way Victor liked to get the denim over his ass. “Nn, it doesn’t feel good though.”

“Oh, but it will when you get what you want, I promise.” Every single word of that statement was a promise in itself, weighted with the guarantee that Yuuri _would_ get what he wanted. Eventually.

Victor’s voice though, that promise and those eyes weren’t helping one bit, and two weeks off hadn’t made things easier for him at all - they’d made it all worse instead.

Next came his briefs, pulled down to his knees where he let them drop to the floor around his feet, now he was finally naked for Victor’s eyes to take in, cock standing erect, legs planted firm, chest already heaving.

“Turn around for me,” Victor prompted, “I want to see you properly after two weeks.”

The scrutiny as he did as he as told was hair raising, it made him all too aware of the way it felt to be caressed by Victor’s eyes, invisible hands that lit his skin on fire and set him to burning.

“Perfect as always, Yuuri.” That praise hit him full force, had Yuuri biting his lip to stifle the pathetic noise he would have made at the gravel in Victor’s tone, and of course it didn’t go unnoticed. Nothing ever did.

Victor’s lips - the ones he’d _kissed_ , the ones he’d tasted, the ones that’d coaxed his own mouth open - curled in a self satisfied grin and Yuuri knew he was doomed because he wanted to kiss that damn grin right off of Victor’s handsome face.

Two could always play at that game. Yuuri was too stubborn, too competitive to let Victor get to him already, so he climbed onto the bed of his own accord, walked on his knees right to the end where he was closest to Victor, and he smirked right back.

“Do your worst then, love,” came the answer to the unspoken challenge as Victor looked back at him. Excitement and mischief _blazed_ with blue fire in Victor’s eyes, and Yuuri shuddered as Victor gave him the instruction to do as he wanted with himself.

The weeks he’d spent here before helped him now, because now his movements were all instinct, driven by what he liked, what he wanted, what he _knew_ Victor wanted to see. His hands moved on their own as he knelt on the mattress only steps away from Victor - he raked his fingers up his thighs, dug them in and left marks that Victor’s eyes couldn’t seem to tear away from. He rolled his hips against the empty air, dragged his fingers higher up to his pelvis, _whining_ already as he avoided touching himself.

Yuuri was leading himself to ruin on his own, normally it was Victor’s voice that did it, the praise and teasing. It’d been two weeks, and now all it took was Victor sitting dead still in his chair - watching Yuuri like he was one of the great wonders of the world. With those eyes on him, Yuuri could almost believe he was.

He looked at that gold ring on Victor’s finger, he looked at Victor’s knuckles as he gripped the armrest - white with pressure as Victor held on. Then, he looked up to Victor’s chest, moved his eyes up Victor’s throat to his clenched jaw: and he knew he was doing exactly as Victor would have told him anyway.

It was excruciating, touching himself all over, making himself _ache_ with no respite as he avoided the places that screamed for attention. In the end he was panting, breath ragged as he finally gave up and lay ass in the air, chest pressed to the mattress with his body across the width of the bed so Victor could see it all.

That tube was within arms reach, right in front of them on the very edge, and he was so clumsy and fog headed, desperate just as Victor said he was as he took it and flipped the cap open with his thumb. He wasn’t even paying attention to Victor anymore, all he could feel was the soft fabric of Victor’s bed against his nipples, the covers against his cheek, and the shockingly cold temperature of lube as he reached behind himself and squeezed it all over his ass. It ran down his cheeks, between them, it dripped between his legs onto the mattress. Yuuri was too busy throwing the tube aside and using his fingers to care.

It was all over from there, he should have known it would be. Two weeks since he’d touched himself like this - because he didn’t feel the need to if Victor wasn’t watching. He ran his finger up and down the cleft of his ass, slicked himself up and gasped at the cold sensation, and then he was curling a finger inside himself, opening himself up and making the mess that he knew was inevitable.

That one finger turned to two soon after, pressing in deep to the knuckle, the pads of his finger massaging that smooth spot inside that made him _moan_ and rock his hips back onto his hand. With his other fist bunched in the sheets above his head, gripping on with white knuckles of his own: Yuuri fucked himself with his fingers, rut his hips back and forth as his cock throbbed between his legs.

He didn’t last long at all, he could feel it building, his gut clenching tight, his mouth falling open as he said Victor’s name over and over again like a prayer to the god that was sitting in that chair watching him right now.

And oh that prayer was answered, because he heard Victor _groan_ in the chair next to him, the strained sound of a man who was fighting a losing battle. That’s what pushed Yuuri right over the edge and set him falling.

“Nngh, _Victor._ ” It was a hoarse breath as he came using just his fingers, a surge of pleasure that had his hips stammering, his body weak, his dick twitching as he came all over himself and the covers.

It was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to do anything except collapse and gasp for air so he could recover from that self induced high. And that was when he turned on his side to look at Victor and knew he’d done his job more than well.

Victor’s chest was rising and falling much too fast for someone who was just _sitting_ there, his knuckles deathly white as his fingers dug into the arm rest, his expression pained as his eyes devoured the disaster that was Yuuri on his bed.

“Just with your fingers?” Victor huffed in awed disbelief, his own voice soft like he didn’t want to break the trance Yuuri had put him under.

There was no way Yuuri could lie here, it was too obvious that he’d been pent up, so all he could do was bury his face in the mattress and mumble as he admitted it. “It’s been two weeks.”

He looked over just in time to see Victor’s breath leave him in all on one go, his chest still as Yuuri’s answer froze him on the spot. Those blue eyes were locked on him, pupils blown -ravenous- and who would have thought all it would take was a two week break to get Victor to _crumble_ further then he ever had.

“ _Fuck._ ” Victor sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he struggled, and then he finally smiled in defeat. “It’s your win, Yuuri.”

That’s when Victor uncrossed his legs, planted them both firm on the floor and sat with them apart, spread so Yuuri could see the result of his work. And just like that: Yuuri’s heart was racing all over again, his whole body _throbbed_ at the sight before him. Victor’s dick, _hard_ as the length pressed against his tight dress pants, obvious as its shape ran up in the direction of his hip.

Yuuri was thinking the same thing Victor just said. _Fuck._ It felt like the whole room was breathless, the world paused as they looked at one another, Victor not caring to hide his tented pants as Yuuri stared. This is what he’d expected from the beginning, someone turned on as they watched their own private show. Except now Yuuri wanted Victor to crack more than this.

“Are you… going to do anything about that?” Yuuri whispered, too shy to say it any louder than he had because he’d pretty much just freaking asked if Victor was going to jerk off or not.

That struggle was still there, the look of self imposed conflict that Yuuri didn’t understand because he didn’t blame Victor one bit.

“Do you want me to?” Victor asked him, soft and earnest.

 _That_ wasn’t something Yuuri could admit to, he couldn’t admit that he’d been trying to get Victor to crack the weeks he was here last. It was something that surprised even himself, so he told another truth instead. “I sort of ah, expected it from the beginning, you know, given what this is..”

Victor still hadn’t moved, his grip still tight on his chair, body still tense as he sat there. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” The honest admission was so quiet, so intimate that Yuuri was reeling all over again because the care he’d been shown was boundless.

“It’s okay.” Yuuri breathed, still so taken by the image in front of him. The answer to Victor’s question was yes, he did want him to. “You can… If you want.”

“Oh, I want to, Yuuri,” Victor drawled as that switch flipped and he finally started moving, his voice low, lip smirking again. That’s when Yuuri finally understood what it was like to watch as someone you found attractive undressed. Looking away wasn’t a possibility, he sat back up on his knees and watched as Victor’s hands came off the armrest to undo this shirt buttons one by one.

That gold ring glinted, catching different angles of the light from outside as those deft fingers moved. Waiting for Victor to get to the bottom of his buttons was agony. It was seeing only inches of flesh exposed at a time, the thick muscles of his chest, the defined ridges of his stomach, and finally that muscled V at his belt line as Victor pulled his shirt wide open to reveal smooth skin.

Yuuri would also be a liar if he said he didn’t like what he saw. There was power in that body, discipline and training in those muscles, and it was Yuuri rapt as he watched Victor for a change.

“What about when it was online?” He ended up blurting, he still couldn’t shake that curiosity as Victor looked back at him without an ounce of shyness or shame.

It was a perfectly bad time to ask that question. Perfect because the spark in Victor’s eyes flared. Bad because Yuuri liked it a lot. _He_ was meant to be the one giving the show, not the other way around. Yuuri’s only salvation was that Victor wasn’t saying anything about Yuuri openly checking him out, though they both knew that’s what he was doing.

Yep. Two weeks apart had been absolutely useless.

“That’s a different story,” Victor _teased_ , and he left Yuuri’s mind racing at all the visions the answer gave him. Those thoughts were too inciting, it was too crazy to think that Victor had gotten himself off over Yuuri, and yet here he was about to do exactly that.

Except Victor’s hands stopped as they got to his belt, as his ring caught the lights shining in through the window, Victor only looked at it for an extra second before he made a silent decision and promptly slid it off his finger.

The only warning Yuuri got before Victor tossed it over onto the mattress in front of him with a flick of his wrist was Victor’s eyes darting up back to him.

“Wear it for me.” That voice was hoarse now, thick with want.

Out of all the things to ever happen between them: this was one Yuuri would never have envisioned. He’d been watching that ring every chance he got, every single time he saw Victor he noticed it with everything Victor did. And now it was sitting right in front of him, the black and gold standing out stark against the white sheets.

“Why?” Was all he could ask, stunned as his blood thrummed because this was about to be a new kind of rush. He could already tell.

The look that Victor gave him then told him exactly why. It was pure filth, temptation and seduction rolled into one handsome package with silver hair and blue eyes. “So it doesn’t get dirty.” Victor grinned something devious at his obvious meaning.

His cheeks were on fire as he picked it up, his ears hot. It was so heavy for such a small thing, still warm from Victor’s touch. Yuuri wondered how much weight that eagle in flight motif actually carried.

“Put it on,” Victor prompted again, a whispered plea.

So Yuuri did, he slid it on the same Victor wore it on - the fourth finger of his right hand. As impossible as it seemed: Victor’s attention grew more intense, like Victor was finally showing the real thing at last.

“Good, that’s good.” Victor swallowed around this thick ball in his throat as his breathing became more ragged, as he finally undid his belt and then the buttons of his dress pants.

Victor was beautiful even now, his naked chest and stomach on display with his unbuttoned shirt, his pants open, his eyes wild as he slid his hand under the waistband of his black briefs and pulled his cock free. And he was shameless now too, gaze fixed on Yuuri without a hint of embarrassment as he stroked his fist up and down his length with slow, sure movements. The skin bunched and pulled, the thick head already wet with precome, and Victor was more than fine to put it on display.

It was insane how Yuuri knew what to do then, he fell back into giving Victor another show of this own, making sure to keep the ring on his finger clean as he took to touching his body all over again. He did those things Victor liked, but that ring on his finger changed _everything_ , because Victor was in front of him, panting as he watched Yuuri rake his fingers against the inside of his thighs, his groin, his hips.

And watching Victor, listening to his groans was too much for him to take, he ended up with his left hand around his own cock, his right hand with Victor’s ring was at his chest pinching his nipple.

He was going to come again already, his hips already rolling into his hand, his pace increasing, his moans getting louder. Victor wasn’t missing a single second of it as his own hand moved faster and faster. Yuuri couldn’t begin to fathom the restraint it’d taken Victor to keep his composure for all those other shows, Yuuri wasn’t able to keep calm at all.

Seeing Victor Nikiforov come was another sweet hell altogether, he saw the moment Victor’s entire body coiled tense, he saw Victor’s powerful hips buck up into his hand - desperate for that last bit of friction. He watched as Victor threw his head back in his chair, jaw slack, his beautiful neck exposed.

“ _Yuuri._ ”

He listened as Victor sighed his name in a rush of breath like it was the only word his tongue wrap itself around, and then Victor was coming all over himself, up his stomach, all the way up to his collarbone and that exposed throat.

It was sensation overload, and it’s what had Yuuri coming only moments after seeing Victor give in to the heights of his own needs.

He’d known shows were going to be different since their time together on the weekend, but he’d never have guessed to this extent. This was insane, Yuuri knew that much as he collapsed onto the bed for a second time to try and calm down.

Victor was making even that pretty hard to do now too, because without warning, without care of the mess on his body, he stood up and shrugged himself out of his shirt one arm at a time and used it to wipe himself off. He’d tucked himself back into his briefs, but his pants were still undone, and now he was completely shirtless and this was the exact sort of thing wet dreams were made of for Yuuri.

Victor’s chest was broad, his shoulders even more so, his biceps sculpted, he was all thick muscle and lines of definition. Yuuri could see he was more than fit, you didn’t get a body like that with an office job, you got a body liked that because you needed it. Yuuri knew that more than anyone. So he was forced to wonder about that as Victor fell back into his routine of taking care of Yuuri first and foremost.

“You okay?” Victor smiled down at him, it was gentle now, warm with affection instead of blazing heat.

“I’m okay.” The smile wouldn’t stay off his own face, the blush on his cheeks obvious. Yuuri was so foolishly happy to see the charming, kind Victor who always looked after him when it was done. “What about you?”

“What do you think?” Victor chuckled as he rolled his shoulders back like some sort of tension was finally gone, and he kept laughing as Yuuri sputtered and hid his face behind his hands.

That’s when Yuuri was reminded all about the ring on his finger as the motif touched his forehead. Yuuri took it off as fast as he could because he didn’t want to hold onto something this important for any longer than he had to, and without thinking he held his hand out in Victor’s direction to give it back.

That was a mistake. He should have just left it on the bed, on the night stand or even in the bathroom on the counter. Victor looked down at him with that troubled look back on his face, his eyes set on the ring in Yuuri’s outstretched palm. Adrenaline kicked in as Victor reached out and touched his fingers to Yuuri’s wrist, to his pulse that still wasn’t quite calm. They’d _kissed_ before, Victor had held his hand, breathed on his neck and caressed his face. All things far more significant than this, and yet the tip of Victor’s fingers on his wrist right in this moment was giving him goosebumps. That featherlight touch moved to trace around the ring on his palm, once, twice, his skin sensitive and ticklish at the contact.

And then the moment was over. Victor plucked the ring out of Yuuri’s hand and stepped even further back to put more distance between them. “Do you need anything? Water, a towel, your glasses?”

Yuuri sat up and tried to clear his head. “Ah, no it’s fine. I’ll just have a shower and get going.”

This was the most awkward it’d ever been, the air heavy with that blurred line and so many things on both of their minds, confusion, uncertainty. Victor just gave him a brisk nod instead. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He turned around to leave - his ring in one hand and soiled shirt in the other - and Yuuri was faced with the picture of Victor’s sculpted back, his skin decorated with a spattering of small, long since healed, silver scars like streaks of moonlight strewn across his skin. The tiny slivers started at his right shoulder and streaked diagonally down across his body, and Yuuri had never seen anything like it in his life to even begin to know where something like that might come from.

They faded from sight as Victor got further away, as he finally left the room and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Yuuri showered and dressed in a state of mental exhaustion, so wrung out from the day, from that gruelling session with Celestino and the unspoken question of getting back into the game, from the build up to his hour with Victor, to the crazy high and the come down that came after.

He needed to go home and think, or sleep to avoid thinking. First he had to get through the obstacle of something he would never get better at. Saying goodbye.

What did one do when the last goodbye ended with a kiss and this one couldn’t? He didn’t know.

Victor was already waiting for him at the entrance way, his own hair damp, freshly showered as well in a white t-shirt and black track pants. Of course Victor would have another bathroom in a place as luxurious as this. Yuuri was sure he’d only seen half the house and this was just another way to confirm it. It was the most casually dressed he’d ever seen Victor, and he still managed to make a plain white T and track pants look more sophisticated than they had any right to be. Yuuri looked more like a slob when he wore something like that.

Yuuri put his shoes on without a word, they’d been through this routine enough for him to fall into it automatically, there was no need for things to be awkward, so he’d try as hard as he could to keep it from being that way.

The distance that Victor put between them when he arrived was there now too - a mute acknowledgement of the arrangement they’d both agreed on- it didn’t stop Victor from smiling at Yuuri as they faced each other to say goodbye.

“Wednesday?” Victor asked like he still thought Yuuri might say no.

Saying no never even crossed his mind. Sure, he’d seen Victor on the weekend, that was by chance. Apart from these arranged nights Yuuri didn’t know when he’d see Victor again, if they’d actually go out again like Victor had asked. Yuuri was already at the point where he’d take all he could get.

“I’ll see you then.”

* * *

Tuesday passed in the blink of an eye, he slept through his alarm and made it to the gym late, Celestino made sure Yuuri worked hard enough to make up for it. Something in their sessions had changed all because of the weekend, that pre fight feeling was there even though they hadn’t spoken a word about it. Yuuri knew it was just a matter of time. On Wednesday, sports journalist Morooka turned up to talk to him about Minami, and to talk to Celestino about Phichit and Yuuri too. Coaches knew their athletes best after all.

All of it contributed to the feeling that something was going to happen soon, that he was finally going to have to make a choice, and going to Victor’s on Wednesday night was this weird but welcome sort of relief because he didn’t have to think about any of that at all. He couldn’t think about it when Victor stole his every thought, his every damn effort to make him crack again.

It was like his break in discipline had never wavered, like Monday never happened. Victor’s composure was back, as was his self control and his unrelenting grip on his emotions.

Victor ruined Yuuri on Wednesday with words alone, with whispered praise and filthy instructions. He called Yuuri a good boy and made Yuuri beg - all with that burning blue fire in his eyes and that ring on his finger that Yuuri had a renewed fixation on.

It made a stupid sort of sense that Victor didn’t do what he’d done on Monday, because it’d been too intense, too overwhelming for Yuuri, probably for Victor too. Monday had been walking that blurred line, and until they actually talked about it Yuuri knew their arrangement needed to stay the same. Except Yuuri didn’t know how to talk to anyone about relationships let alone one that had money involved on top of it.

So their goodbye went the same as it always did too. It went with smiles and careful distance, with Victor asking _’Friday?’_ , and Yuuri saying _’See you then.’_

* * *

Thursday confirmed it all. Yuuri wasn’t late to the gym in the morning, he’d run the distance with Phichit and made it early. Celestino still treated the early morning sparring session like he was late.

No one said anything. Not the other coaches, not the other fighters or casuals that only did it for a hobby. Not even Phichit. They all watched Yuuri’s stubborn efforts to stay standing - something he was known for. He never saw the look on anyones’ faces, he never heard what they said. Nor did he see Morooka pop in again to take photos and write notes. All he could pay attention to was the mitts and the will to keep going. It was therapeutic in its own way, rewarding and fulfilling to know that your body could hold up under such gruelling sessions.

Yuuri knew too, that those sessions were Celestino’s own way of looking after him. It was wearing him out so much that he couldn’t overthink, so that he had no energy to get overly anxious. It was letting Yuuri wrap his head around it on his own without forcing him any further. Celestino had found out the hard way exactly what happened when he approached things with too much pressure. For now, Yuuri knew Celestino would say nothing until the need was right there, and Yuuri would always, _always,_ be thankful for it.

However soon that need would be for Celestino to say something was anyone’s guess, Yuuri knew it would be soon.

* * *

On Thursday night he slept like the dead and went through the same thing with Celestino on Friday morning too. It was easier than it had been on Monday, and it was only because Yuuri was expecting it by now.

He went throughout Friday thinking that it was the last day of the week he’d get to see Victor too. The weekend was tomorrow and so he’d get two days to himself with lighter training and no shows with Victor to sit down and relax, to think and try not to give himself anxiety while he was at it. Sometimes time off did more harm than it did good.

At 7pm Yuuri turned up to Victor’s apartment like usual, and like Wednesday Victor gave him that same space and kept his composure while Yuuri fell apart. Apart from Monday: everything between them had gone back to the exact same way it’d been before the two week break. Now it was like they’d never kissed, like Victor had never whispered words of affection in his ear and kissed him on the forehead. Maybe them playing footsies under the table had been a dream, maybe Victor telling his friend they were boyfriends was a hallucination.

He’d tried to scrub away his frustration in Victor’s shower as he attempted to puzzle it out. That caring Victor was still there, the nice person who always checked on him when they were done.

Yuuri came up with nothing. So he dressed in the emptiness of Victor’s bedroom and knew he was probably going to say something stupid as they said goodbye instead.

And there Victor was: waiting for him at the door as usual. Silent as Yuuri put his shoes on. He expected Victor’s expression to be the same one he saw whenever they said goodbye, the melancholy smile, the hopeful question of the day they’d next met.

None of it was the same this time.

Victor was standing closer than he had all week when Yuuri turned around, he was inches away and Yuuri looked up to see the frustration Yuuri was feeling on Victor’s face. Brows drawn together, lips pursed, Victor’s hand twitched at his side in the motion of reaching out, and Yuuri felt like an idiot. It took two people to talk, and he’d left it all up to Victor instead.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Victor whispered first with bated breath like he’d been waiting to ask all week.

And like an idiot, Yuuri was excited before he’d answered. “Not really. I’ve only got a morning spar with Phichit.”

“Go out with me after?” Victor didn’t stop himself from reaching out and taking Yuuri’s hand then, his fingers circled Yuuri’s wrist and felt that thumping pulse just like Monday. And then Victor did something to make Yuuri’s heart lose control, he took Yuuri’s hand up and kissed the tips of his fingers like something the devout would do.

All Yuuri could do was nod because the words on his tongue had fled along with any coherent thought.

 _That’s_ when Victor smiled, it was real and happy and bright and the butterflies in Yuuri’s ribcage were rejoicing at the sight. “Is it okay if I pick you up from the gym?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said without thinking. It meant they’d be together during the day for the first time, it was something new to look forward to, something different, something Yuuri wanted a whole lot. The possibility of Victor watching him train with Phichit never occurred to him.

Victor kissed his hand once more, his smile pressed against Yuuri’s skin, his eyes playful as Yuuri’s ears turned red. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you then.” Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh as he said the words he usually did, only because they meant something completely different this time and he was glad for it. The way Victor hummed in turn as he lowered Yuuri’s hand and let go said just how happy he was about it too.

Just like that the frustration was gone, replaced with anticipation instead. This was the best goodbye of the week, and Yuuri was content to leave it at that as he opened the door.

"Yuuri,” Victor called his name one last time as Yuuri set foot outside the apartment. Before the door could swing itself shut, Yuuri turned around to see Victor holding it open.

What Victor said then as they stood there staring at each other made the complication he’d both been avoiding all too real, and yet it was the last thing on his mind because was Victor standing there with that smile reaching all the way to the corners of his eyes. That smile meant it was the first time Yuuri wasn’t loathe to leave Victor alone in his lifeless, lonely apartment.

”It's a date."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note/reminder: Yuuri is in the lightweight division, Phichit is in the featherweight division below him, and Minami is in bantamweight below them both (with Seung-Gil who is mentioned in this chapter)
> 
> Sorry for the wait, here it is! Typos and all that jazz as usual.

* * *

Thrown from one emotion to another in a matter of seconds, Yuuri made his way home in this state of unbalanced shock. He’d been so wound up about the distance between them, about how it’d gone back to the same as it always was and it hadn’t looked like changing. And then Victor had undone it all and sent Yuuri reeling in the opposite direction with a few simple words and a kiss on his fingertips. 

A date. 

If it wasn’t for the smile on Victor’s face as he left, or that hopeful tremor in Victor’s voice as he asked, the warm glean in Victor’s eye that stole Yuuri’s breath on the spot: then Yuuri almost wouldn’t believe it. Not after how things had been going this week. 

But it was true, Yuuri could still feel the pressure of Victor’s soft lips on his fingers, he could still feel the tingle in his chest as the butterflies slowly settled. 

He zoned out on the train home as he thought of the endless possibilities that might happen tomorrow, at the fact they’d be spending time together outside Victor’s apartment again. So many things could happen and Yuuri was _stupidly_ giddy with the notion of any of it. Even if it was going back to that coffee shop to do the exact same thing they’d done last weekend, Yuuri would be happy. Because even if it was Victor - someone Yuuri was still deciphering and coming to grips with - walking the streets next to him last weekend had felt natural, standing in line to order felt normal, and sitting across from each other had been comforting in a way that spending time with someone you liked should be. It was a struggle not to think about it, but right now after Victor had just asked him out it was the only thing on his mind. 

Training in the morning was going to be a distracted affair, Yuuri already couldn’t keep his thoughts straight - literally. Phichit was going to tease the shit out of him the moment he found out, and Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to care just yet. Tomorrow, Yuuri would be too busy thinking about what he was going to do _after_ his sparring session to let Phichit get to him during it. And that would frustrate Phichit to no end. There was nothing like giving Phichit a taste of his own medicine. 

There was no keeping the smile off his face as he arrived home, as he threw his bag down the moment he shut the door behind him so he could finally breathe out all the anticipating tension that’d plagued him for the entire week. The relief alone at the fact Victor meant what he’d said about going out again told Yuuri it was already too late not to have feelings. So the hard part now would be what he did with them, because when Yuuri fell, when he _really_ fell: there was no stopping himself from hitting the ground hard. Strong as he was, as good as he was at putting up a fight; he couldn’t fight his feelings and win. He’d learnt that the hard way, the only thing he could do was ride it out and stand up on his own two feet when it was all over. That’s what he was best at after all. 

“Take it as it comes, Yuuri,” he deadpanned to himself as he made his way into the kitchen to eat one of the meals he’d cooked earlier in the week. The ambient light from the busy high rise streets of Shibuya outside lit the inside of his open living apartment. Soft shades of yellow and white flooded into the lounge from the balcony window and then stretched into the kitchen in glowing streaks to give him enough light to see by. This time of night was always strangely peaceful after a long week of training, normally he’d play a movie in the background as he ate or hook his phone up to his sound system to play some music. Instead he thought about how he’d left Victor, the silence behind him at the door and his always dark apartment, he thought about the smile on his face and the _light_ in those blue eyes that seemed so bright amidst that lonely backdrop, and he smiled yet again because he was the reason Victor made that expression. It was a crazy thought, he never would have guessed the Victor he first met could look at Yuuri like that, he never would have guessed that they’d go on a date either. 

He ate dinner in silence as he sat at his stone kitchen counter with the city lights on his back from the window in the lounge behind him, and he tried not to overthink about the complications that’d reared their head the moment that it was declared a date. He didn’t bother staying up late after he was done either, his determination not to work himself up all over again about unnecessary things won over, and he went to bed with his alarm set for early so he could get to the gym on time. 

Tired from the week, from Celestino’s relentless sessions and Victor’s too, and relieved all because he’d seen Victor’s smile: Yuuri found himself dozing off the moment he got into bed.

And like some teenager who had a hopeless crush: the last thing he wondered before he finally fell asleep was if he’d get to kiss Victor again tomorrow too. 

* * *

It was always funny how much faster and easier it was to get out of bed when you knew you had something on that you were looking forward to. Instead of hitting the snooze button multiple times like he always did for Saturday training: Yuuri sat up and got out of bed the first time his phone bleeped on his nightstand. It hardly had the chance to vibrate a handful of times before he’d already snatched it up into his hand to turn it off so it couldn’t sound again. 

He already had his training gear and his bag all laid out like he did every morning, and this part of his routine was the same as it always was. Tight sparring shorts on first, then track pants over top, t-shirt, jacket, and then a moments thought to set himself steady for the day ahead. 

It was when he looked at his gym bag that he realised he needed to bring actual clothes for afterwards because Victor was picking him up from the gym and he was going on a freaking date. The day wasn’t going to be the same as all his other Saturdays at all, and so he took an extra moment to wrap his head around it.

A split second of nerves spiked in his gut, a moments hesitation and indecision because he’d never really cared about what to wear before. It was only a second after that that he was laughing to himself in his room and mentally kicking himself because Victor had seen him _naked_. He’d seen Yuuri in a three piece suit, he’d seen Yuuri in jeans and a t shirt that he wore whenever he went to his apartment, clothes weren’t going to matter at all. 

The amount of comfort he took from everything that told him had him feeling happy and his date hadn’t even started yet. It told him that Victor liked him for all of those things, and it finally sunk in. 

So without much care and going on the advice Phichit always gave him if ever Yuuri asked, he picked up a pair of black skinny jeans and a navy scoop neck t-shirt that Phichit had given him for situations that qualified as a date. Then it was shoving them in his gym bag with a pair of black Chuck Taylors and deciding that would do.

Out of habit he ate breakfast in a rush, and he was half way through shoving his morning oats into his mouth when his phone lit up on the bench next to him. It wasn’t even 7am and his first thought was that it would be Victor - he’d been up and at work the last time Yuuri was the one to contact him well before dawn, and he’d have Yuuri’s number from that time too.

Maybe Yuuri grabbed his phone a little too fast - a little too eagerly to see if he was right, and sure enough, it said: 

_Message received from: Victor Nikiforov_

_’So what time am I picking you up?’_

That’s right, in all his surprise last night Yuuri had forgotten something pretty important: he’d left out what time Victor should be there. And on the same note, Victor had forgotten to ask too. Yuuri laughed to himself again, just like that: they were already off to a hopeless start. This was the first time they’d even messaged each other on their phones, it wasn’t on the camboy site under the guise of foolish usernames, it wasn’t discussing their arrangement on the phone; this was something two people who knew each other did. 

In that moment Yuuri sat there at his kitchen bench with a spoon in one hand and his phone in the other, he looked at the message on the screen and felt something shift between them even though they weren’t in the same room. One text message always led to more, and even on the days he wasn’t seeing Victor he could still _talk_ to him if he wanted. It was another boundary, and they’d just crossed it with one simple message. There was no going back, no undoing a message that’d already been sent and read, so there was nothing he could do except reply to let Victor know what time Yuuri would be free. 

_Message sent to: Victor Nikiforov_

_’11 o clock if that’s ok with you?’_

It was just over four hours until eleven, Yuuri had the feeling those four hours were going to drag unless he kept himself moving, so he finished breakfast fast as usual, put his shoes on, and was nearly out the door to meet Phichit when his phone buzzed in his pocket once more. 

_Message received from: Victor Nikiforov_

_’Of course it’s okay. I’ll see you then.’_

And now even one text message could have him trying to fight the smile on his face because Victor could throw him off _that_ much. So it was another breath to compose himself to appear normal before he left his apartment and took the elevator to Phichit’s floor to knock on his door for a change. 

Today, he was determined to play Phichit at his own game, and so when Phichit opened the door and asked if the sky was falling because he was early: Yuuri just shrugged it off and acted none the wiser. 

Just as Yuuri thought he would, Phichit’s groaned in frustration. They hadn’t even left the building before his friend gave a sigh like he’d just given up on them both. Phichit had been waiting on something to happen between Victor and Yuuri all week. He asked the morning after every session with Victor and had been given the same answer every single time. Before last night Yuuri’s frustration was the same as Phichit’s too, but now as he answered his friend’s questions on their walk to the gym he pretended like he’d given up instead. He gave Phichit looks of resignation and doubted that it was ever going to happen, he told Phichit that nothing between him had changed at all, and by the time they got to the gym it looked like Phichit was ready to punch him already. 

It was so _hard_ not to burst out into laughter because Yuuri understood that frustration, he understood that he could have just as easily asked Victor and cleared his doubts much sooner. He knew that’s what Phichit wanted him to do, and it looked like Phichit was going to explode at Yuuri’s feigned hesitation. The four hours before he saw Victor were going to be fun after all, and he had to take yet another breath in order to keep a straight face as they let themselves into the private half of the commercial fight gym reserved for professionals and people approved by Celestino. 

And, like most Saturday mornings it side was empty save for Celestino himself because everyone besides Phichit and Yuuri chose today for their rest days. It was always comforting to be greeted with the peace and quiet of a near empty training room with all the roller doors open to the carpark outside to let the fresh air and morning light stream in. The noise of the city outside burst in on the breeze every now and then, people and cars went past as they arrived at the gym carpark, and as much noise as there was: their space was blissfully peaceful. The large room had boxing and kick bags all bolted to the walls at various points in the room, there were blue sparring mats in one corner, stretching and cool down mats next to that, and in the centre of the high ceilinged old fashion gym was a training octagon that Yuuri still avoided as much as possible. It all smelt like leather and hard work, of memories and dedication, and Yuuri was content in coming here with Phichit to do their own thing without others around. 

These quiet times were the best, no up coming fights or open sparring sessions where the media attended and asked too many questions, no one hanging around or coming in and out of those open doors to watch them and see what shape they were in. Just him and Phichit - and Celestino who was doing his own training this morning. But it was impossible to avoid the thought that these quiet times might be over soon, especially with the way Celestino was with Yuuri this week, and it was impossible to avoid the fact that fighting again was the only way out of his self imposed mess. 

He almost dwelt on it, he almost let that get to him and suck the fun out of his morning, but then Celestino was smiling at them both as he turned and saw them coming in, Phichit was laughing his trademark infectious laugh at their coach in turn as he said hello, and all those thoughts that’d been about to overwhelm Yuuri vanished. Instead he followed Phichit over to where Celstino was and said good morning before they dropped their bags on the floor next to the sparring mats to get started.

It didn’t take long for Phichit to start his attempts at winding Yuuri up, they’d warmed up their bodies and stripped down to their sparring shorts, they’d wrapped their feet and hands and put their fingerless sparring gloves on, and his friend was already on the attack. 

Celestino had gone for the day now, the gym was empty save for the two of them, and so with a wicked glean in his eye Phichit held nothing back at all.

“Maybe your game is just bad,” Phichit pretended to lecture in a haughty tone as he stood at the ready with his guard up, “I mean, tie pulling? Victor probably thinks you’re lame now.” 

Phichit laid the bait for Yuuri to come charging in, and Yuuri was going to burst at the seams in an effort to hold in his laughter. Instead of lunging in with a fast jab exactly like Phichit wanted: all Yuuri did was sigh and look at the clock. Three hours to go. 

“Maybe you’re right.” Yuuri said in turn. “Or maybe Master Phichit’s lessons in romance were shit.” 

Phichit’s jaw dropped in surprise, his eyes wide as he registered Yuuri’s comeback, and then he was laughing like a madman as he came charging in first instead. “You’re just upset because you can’t even get a date with someone who likes you.” 

That was it. The word _date_ was the thing that set him off, the thing that had him smiling from ear to ear because Phichit had no idea and it was glorious. 

Just like that: their quiet morning exploded into a flurry of blows as they antagonised each other with taunts and jibes that they always pushed each other with. Yuuri laughed because it was so _fun_ to wind Phichit up like that, and Phichit just laughed because he could. 

Saturday sessions were all about this, they were about laughing off a week’s worth of intense training and letting the body have a break from working so hard it felt like your lungs might burst. The distraction was perfect, his body was moving, his blood was flowing, his skin sweating, and he’d managed to get Phichit back for weeks and weeks worth of teasing. Still there was one thing constantly on his mind: Victor and the clock on the wall that was ticking too slowly on its way to 11. They stopped every now and again to stretch muscles that were getting tight, to go over technique and movement, to get a drink. And each time they stopped moving Yuuri looked at the clock on the wall like it might disappear at any moment and render time still. 

The first time they stopped it was only 8:30 and Yuuri thought that surely the clock was mocking him because time _never_ went this slowly. But they kept training, he kept checking the time, and Yuuri found it harder and harder to keep it to himself. Playing around with Phichit was a distraction, but the constant talk _about_ Victor meant that that Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t help but count down. He looked at the clock again just before 9am, he looked at 9:25 and then at 9:45, and when he looked again only ten minutes later Yuuri decided that it was finally time to spill the beans because this had gone on long enough and it was time to see Phichit’s reaction instead. 

They’d just had a drink and stopped long enough to catch their breath, both still a mess of sweat damp hair and wet skin as they stood at the ready once more. Bodies tense, silence heavy as they gauged each other’s stance, it was the perfect time. 

“Hey, Phichit?” Yuuri queried with innocence, his fists up as he balanced on the balls of his feet. “I need to be done by eleven, okay?” 

The silence was music to Yuuri’s ears. He saw Phichit mull it over, he saw him cock his head and _think_ about something Yuuri might have on to warrant him saying that, he saw Phichit come up blank even as he stood ready for any move Yuuri might make. 

“Why?” Phichit deadpanned, suspicious. 

That’s when Yuuri dropped his hands and acted completely oblivious to the fact that he’d left this detail out of their conversation all morning. “I didn’t tell you? Victor is picking me up for a date then.”

Impossibly: Phichit’s jaw dropped even lower, his eyes got wider, and then a look of pure insult crossed his face even as his eyes _lit_ right up with realisation because Yuuri was going on a date with Victor after all. And then, they both fell into laughter at the same time as they started moving. 

“You are…. the worst friend ever.” Phichit near yelled, his smile ear to ear as he stepped in on his front foot and then followed with bringing his back leg through to connect with Yuuri’s thigh. It was _hard_ , harder than a blow meant for fun, the sting was exactly what payback felt like, and it was completely worth it. 

“Oh! That’s a bit harsh.” Yuuri’s grin reflected Phichit’s own as he moved back out of Phichit’s range to reset his feet. 

“Friendship cancelled!” Came the feigned pout as Phichit kept after him with his fast kicks. They sparred like that again with renewed vigour and time went so much faster now that it was out in the open. Naturally, Phichit had questions about how the date came to be, and like always, Yuuri answered them in between trying to breathe, block Phichit’s onslaught and give as good as he got.

It was back and forth, and there was to respite for him to look at the clock now. Phichit was keeping him busy on purpose, manoeuvring him so his back was facing the open doors behind them and the wall the clock was on. And Yuuri was too stubborn, he refused to ask what the time was.

He knew Phichit was keeping an eye on the time for him now and that they’d stop in plenty of time for Yuuri to be ready, that’s why Yuuri thought nothing of the split second surprise on Phichit’s face as they stepped away from each other after exchanging kicks. The breeze from the open doors behind him was cold on his sweat slicked back, the noise of the city buzzing in with it as it always did, and Yuuri thought it was just another feint to throw him off and keep him guessing. 

He’d known Phichit for far too long to fall for the ‘look behind you’ tricks now, and instead of being lured into a weak stance: Yuuri moved to counter. He’d just leant back so he could bring his knee up and extend his leg to strike, his whole weight balanced on the ball of one foot with all his muscles tense, then, he saw Phichit smirk and knew something was off. 

And even though he was moving, his heart racing as Phichit stepped in to block the high kick with his forearm: time still stood nauseatingly still as Phichit whispered fast under his breath. 

_“Your daddy is here.”_

Yuuri was thrown _so_ far off balance, panicked, embarrassed and flustered in the space of a millisecond as he tried to bring his leg back down and turn around at the same time to see if Phichit was just joking around or not. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tripped, the last time he hit the mats due to his own carelessness, and this time it all happened at once. Phichit was snickering quietly to himself as Yuuri’s ass landed with a slap, and because he’d been trying to turn around at the same time he ended up flat on his back, stunned as he looked up to see Victor standing there on the edge of the mats, watching him like he always did. _Oh._

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Phichit openly cackling, he should really get back up and kick his ass, but all he could bring himself to focus on was the upside down view of Victor looking down at him with a fondness that made Yuuri want to melt into a puddle right there on the floor. 

Yuuri was well aware he was staring, because God, Victor looked so good. His legs thick and strong in tight blue jeans and black ankle boots, forearms muscled and bare with the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt. That silver hair was perfectly messy for a casual date, and it was the first time Yuuri found himself wanting to reach out and _touch_ it, to run his hands through it and feel the strands between his fingers. It was probably soft, it probably smelt like the shampoo Yuuri never used in Victor’s ensuite shower, that hair was something that he could play with for hours on end, and right now he wanted nothing more than to do just that. 

Those warm blue eyes froze him there on the ground, and Victor was doing his fair share of staring too, looking down at Yuuri but never looking _down_ on him. And because he was an idiot, all Yuuri managed to say was: “…. Hi.”

And Victor cracked that same real smile he’d worn last night, a gentle curve of his lip, a softening of his eyes, a reflection of all the hopeless feelings that’d culminated on seeing each other and the lack of not knowing what to do with them. 

“Hi.” Victor smiled eventually as he took in the view of a sweaty Yuuri laying there on the mat, and it looked like he was just as stunned to see Yuuri even though he was the one that brought himself here. “Sorry, I’m early.” 

“Oh, it’s okay!” Yuuri leapt up to his feet by throwing his legs in the air and then using the momentum for his upper body to follow, then he turned around to go to Victor and finally saw it all properly. It hit him much harder than he thought any one visiting his gym ever could. Victor standing in the open space, the place Yuuri made his living and his life, the light from outside bursting in behind him to make it seem more surreal than it ought to be. His online benefactor turned private show client, his _date_ for today was standing in a place so deeply personal to him and it was another boundary crossed. All of that raced through his mind in that split second after standing up, and only after all that did he finally look at the clock on the wall that said 10:40 and not 11:00 like Yuuri thought it already was now that Victor was here. 

And like so many times before, it was Victor that broke that ice to help them both feel more comfortable because all they were doing now was staring at each other. He saw Victor’s eyes rove his bare skin as Yuuri stepped closer to greet him properly, the way they trailed down his sweat slicked chest, his stomach, his thighs and then all the way back up to his throat before he finally looked Yuuri in the eye with a tease glowing in his gaze. It was Victor who took the last step closer onto the mats, Victor who placed a pointed finger in the centre of Yuuri’s chest to touch his skin. 

"I wonder if I could make you sweat this much too, hm?" It was all antagonism and taunt under Victor’s breath, it turned Yuuri’s ears red even as it made his blood simmer with the challenge that it was - because if there was one thing they’d established lately it was the competitive spirit between them was _fierce_ and unending.

“Good luck with that one.” The words came falling out of his mouth all on their own, a comeback as easy and sure as if he was talking to Phichit, _natural_. And the playful look in Victor’s eyes said that was the exact answer Victor wanted. 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll need it,” Victor pressed his finger harder against Yuuri’s skin, and now Yuuri couldn’t tell if he was breathless because he’d been training or because of Victor instead. 

Phichit’s laughter behind them broke into the moment as he looked at them both, and Yuuri should have _known_ that his friend would have seen the opportunity in this, the chance to get Yuuri back for his games this morning. All Yuuri wanted to do was finish now that Victor was here. Phichit had ideas that involved anything but. 

“Sorry,” Phichit smiled something cheeky as he joined them, he nodded once to Victor and left the introductions at that before he continued, “but I’m not done with this guy yet, he’s still got a good ten minutes in him.” 

“Phichit,” Yuuri deadpanned and tried hard not to outright glare.

But Victor just chuckled and shrugged it off, and it was like something out of a crazy dream seeing his best friend and Victor interact, seeing _Victor_ who sometimes looked like he belonged in a different world now so thoroughly in Yuuri’s instead. 

“Don’t mind me,” Victor offered, and he looked perfectly happy to stand there and wait while Phichit got what he wanted. 

Yuuri was about to protest, about to say that it was fine and he would go and shower, but of course Phichit could always say that one thing that set Yuuri off, and that’s exactly what he did.

“Come on, Yuuri, give Victor a show.” It was sly and full of too many meanings for Yuuri to let it drop, Victor was chuckling in the background, Phichit was cackling like he’d just won his title belt all over again, and Yuuri was going to kick Phichit’s ass.

It was only ten minutes, but it was the most intensely furious, constantly moving ten minutes of the morning. Yuuri was never standing in the same spot for more than a second as he evaded Phichit’s full speed kicks and punches, and even though there was never any head shots in a session like this, his friend was still fighting to win all the same. 

Distracted was something Phichit never gave him a chance to be, Victor was here and he was _watching_ , and his friend gave Yuuri no respite whatsoever for Yuuri to even look in Victor’s direction. It was weaving to the side to avoid one blow and then trying to get in one of his own as he lunged forward on his front foot to bring his back leg through to strike back with a kick of his own. It was serious, the wind up had well and truly worked and now he could _feel_ Victor observing him like Phichit didn’t even exist even though he was Yuuri’s sparring opponent. And Yuuri was burning because of that blue fire that he knew would be blazing in Victor’s eyes, not because of the workout. 

Yuuri wasn’t expecting to feel this vulnerable, this _naked_ even though Victor had seen him so much more exposed on his bed. This was his life, his livelihood, it was the thing Yuuri wanted to keep so desperately that he’d do those shows with Victor in the first place. It was all on display for Victor to see, and he was determined to show Victor what he was really paying for. His lungs started burning as their speed picked up, as it turned into a real fight instead of their lazy Saturday mornings.   


More and more Phichit was on the defensive, forced backwards under the weight of Yuuri’s heavier blows and his sudden motivation, and it was exhilarating. Whatever expression Yuuri was making, he had no idea, but it must have been good because as their muscles started to burn, as fatigue and breathlessness came into play: Phichit started smiling like his plan was the biggest success. Yuuri was smiling too.

Phichit was a champion, he’d defended his title belt more than a handful of times already, but he was also in the weight class below Yuuri, and that meant Yuuri and his famed stamina would always have the advantage. Panting and exhausted; Phichit stepped back to put his gloved hands up to call it quits, and they both promptly fell on the floor to catch their breath. 

The first thing Yuuri looked at as he sat there was Victor, and he was meant to say he’d go and get ready now, that Victor wouldn’t have to wait much longer, but Victor’s expression stole any words before they could form on his tongue. Pride, admiration, awe, want, it was all there, and this was Phichit’s plan exactly, because now Yuuri knew what Phichit meant when he talked about how Victor looked at him. 

“Well, looks like this is my cue to go.” Phichit released a breath as he looked at the clock like he suddenly had better things to do, he still winked at Yuuri all the same though. “I’ve got a Skype date with Seung-Gil, so I’ll shut everything up for you now cos I’m gonna run home and see how I go under fatigue, you have your keys to lock the door yeah?” 

Phichit was already moving, pulling his gloves off and unwrapping his hands and feet with practiced speed so he could put his t shirt and running shoes on. 

“Yeah, they’re in my bag.” Yuuri answered as he hastily tried to stretch any muscle he could in an effort to do things properly even though Victor was here - watching the exchange between friends without interrupting. 

“Okay, well I’m off then.” Just like that Phichit finished tying his shoes and picked his bag up to go. “Nice to meet you at last Victor, don’t spoil Yuuri too much hey.” 

“Phichit,” Yuuri sighed because Phichit was about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. 

But Victor just laughed again as he set his eyes on Yuuri once more, “It’s more like the other way around.” 

And oh, there was that rush of feelings again, to think that Victor felt like he was the spoilt one purely because they were going on a date made Yuuri want to curl into a ball and hide the blush on his cheeks. 

He opened his mouth to come up with some sort of rebuke but came up with nothing, and Phichit was enjoying this far too much. 

“Have a good day guys.” Phichit offered without subtlety before he gave a brief flick of his wrist to say goodbye, and then he left them to go and start pulling the roller doors down so that Yuuri wouldn’t have to. 

It was so sudden and so obvious and there was no point avoiding it as Yuuri stood up to get his own gear. The clanking sound of the doors coming down ended as Phichit shut the last door and vanished, and then they were utterly alone in the place Yuuri called home away from home.

Face to face once more in the silence, feeling shy about all his exposed skin even though he was used to wearing nothing in front of Victor instead; Yuuri’s heart raced at the heavy regard that was Victor’s full attention.

“He knows about me?” Victor asked without any accusation, only plain curiosity instead. 

“Oh.” Yuuri realised it must be pretty awkward to find out this way that someone had been talking about you. “Yeah, is that okay?” 

The reaction he got then nearly brought Yuuri to his knees, he was doomed in a hundred and one different ways and Victor had just added another way to that list. Victor reached out to him then, the tips of his fingers caressing Yuuri’s jaw - reverent and careful - and Victor _blushed_ as his eyes softened and turned all Yuuri’s self defence to mush. 

“That means you told your friend about me.” And Victor said it like it meant the world as he stepped in closer so they were inches away from bumping chests. Yuuri looked up at Victor - at those eyes that threatened to pull him in, the lips that he wanted to kiss so badly already, the line of his throat, the dusting of pink on his cheeks - and it was pretty easy to feel his head falling over his heels in the moment. 

“I’m.. gonna go shower so we can go.” Yuuri changed the subject the only way he knew how so he could reel his feelings in, and Victor hummed in agreement as he stepped back once more to break the contact between them. 

He felt Victor’s eyes on his back the entire walk to the locker room door at the rear of the gym, and he shivered even though his blood was still running hot from his work out.

* * *

It was the fastest shower of Yuuri’s life, he washed all the sweat off and lathered his hair up in record time and thanked himself for his choice in mint scented shampoo because it helped him clear his head. He scrubbed his face and rinsed off, and he did his best to stretch a little bit more under the hot water because his muscles would hate him tomorrow otherwise. 

The empty changing room meant that Yuuri could towel himself off in a rush without anyone thinking he was weird, it meant he could spray on his cologne without worrying about it bothering anyone. It meant he could put his tight scoop-neck T on, wiggle his black jeans on and look at himself in the mirror to make sure his ass looked as good in his pants as what Phichit said without anyone catching him looking at himself. And Phichit was right, skinny jeans did make his ass look good. 

He dried his hair as best he could and pushed it back out of his face before he found his glasses in his bag and put them on, followed by his shoes and another look in the mirror to make sure he didn’t look as messy and off kilter as he felt. It was just after 11 when he checked his phone before he left the changing room. 

Knowing Victor was waiting for him really did nothing to prepare him for the sight of Victor on the other side of the octagon in the middle of the room, still so clear and easy to see through the mesh wire cage walls. The way Victor’s eyes widened upon seeing Yuuri walk around the other side of the cage was too much, the smile that followed, the so obvious assessment of Yuuri from head to toe. Yuuri took one more breath to right himself and told himself to stop being a mess. 

With his bag slung over his shoulder he walked to where Victor was waiting by the door and felt the need to act on his feelings more and more with each step, it’d been a whole _week_ of not knowing whether this was going to happen or not.

It should have been simple from here, they’d step through the door so Yuuri could lock up and then they could leave, but Victor started to speak, his voice low and smooth and Yuuri decided that he was still frustrated about it after all. Victor only got half way through whatever he was going to say before Yuuri interrupted him. 

“You look-

Thank goodness the gym was empty, because in the moment he would have done this whether people were here or not. With one last step Yuuri closed the distance between them and put himself on his tip toes to give Victor a quick peck on the lips. It was soft and tentative and he was stepping back as soon as he’d done it because he’d just gone and surprised Victor again. He expected that same alarm on Victor’s face as last time, the shock and uncertainty. But there was none, no questions from Victor this time, no why, no hesitation or double checking that this was okay. 

There was only the curl of Victor’s too soft, too gorgeous lips into a smirk, the sparkle in his eye, and then Victor was grabbing both of Yuuri’s hands and twining their fingers together so Yuuri couldn’t get away. Victor pulled him close again, chest to chest so that he could lean down and press his forehead to Yuuri’s, and it was so insanely intimate and gentle that Yuuri didn’t stand a chance. 

“Only one kiss?” 

Dead. Yuuri was dead, because Victor was now _pouting_ like he’d just been deprived of his favourite thing and Yuuri was the one who’d taken it from him. Dealing with Victor during those hour long shows was something he was used to, talking to the handsome and composed Victor was easy, but dealing with _this_ Victor was something he was no good at at all. 

So Yuuri just squeezed Victor’s hands in his and kissed him once more because that was so much easier than saying something. He saw Victor smirk again moments before he shut his eyes like Yuuri had just fallen for his trap, so in the end it was smiling against Victor’s lips because he couldn’t help himself.

One small kiss turned to two, from a peck on the lips to something tender, two turned to three, and Victor was squeezing Yuuri’s hands back like letting go wasn’t an option. He could feel the press of Victor’s gold ring against his finger, the ring that he’d _worn_ and thought about all too often. Yuuri’s ideal date changed from playing with Victor’s hair, to playing with Victor’s hair _and_ kissing him _and_ holding his hand so he could touch that ring again. 

Before the moment could get any sweeter and give Yuuri a toothache, Victor kissed him one last time, the curve of Victor’s smile easy to feel against Yuuri’s own. 

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you all week.” Victor hummed then as he pressed his lips to Yuuri’s forehead instead, Yuuri would never get used to this. 

“I.. same.” Yuuri gave it up and admitted it too, and it was a weight off his chest as soon as the word was said. Victor’s hands were warm in his, Victor’s breathing ticklish in his hair, and this date was already better than Yuuri thought it could be. 

“I’m glad then.” Without letting go of Yuuri’s hands Victor stepped back to look at him properly again, and only now could Yuuri breathe. “So what do you want to do today?” 

He was caught so off guard by the question that he almost blurted that he wanted to play with Victor’s hair, it was on the tip of his tongue ready to fall out of his mouth and make him sound stupid, but then he remembered so clearly the conversation he had with Victor last weekend instead. 

“Um, we could go to some place better than Starbucks like you said?” Yuuri shrugged because it was the only thing he could think of, he hadn’t expected Victor to _ask_ him what he wanted, but now that he thought about it he should have because Victor always cared about what Yuuri wanted. 

“Hm?” Victor cocked his head to the side in thought as he pursed his lips for a few seconds, and then his face lit up with his decision. “There’s a few good places not far from your apartment isn’t there? You must be hungry after such a big session.”

Already Yuuri was starting to feel post training hunger set in, it wouldn’t be long until his stomach announced its need for sustenance to the world because when Yuuri was training like he had for the past week, eating was just as important. Yuuri thanked whatever divine being was looking after him right now that that Victor knew that too. 

“I’ll be starving in about 10 minutes.” Yuuri laughed even though what he said was true, and in the end he just said ’stuff it’ to himself and decided to go with the whatever felt right because _everything_ with Victor felt right. “You can park your car at mine and we can walk into Shibuya from there.”

Then he was pulling Victor by the hands through the exit door into the car park outside so he could lock the gym up at last and they could finally go on their date. 

Even Yuuri could see that Victor looked all too happy to be led by him.

* * *

They talked about training on the way to Yuuri’s where Victor parked in the underground visitor space for Yuuri’s apartment, it took two minutes for Yuuri to drop his bag off at home, and then they walked the few busy streets it took to get to the yakiniku bar.

Shibuya was as packed as it could be on a Saturday at lunch time, and having that closeness with Victor in the gym made Yuuri all too aware of the distance between them out in the swarms of people. Of course their arms still touched, their hands still brushed against one another as they walked, but being out in daylight came with a whole different set of boundaries that Yuuri hadn’t considered until now and he didn’t like them at all because they all stemmed from things being complicated.

Victor caught enough eyes as it was because he was tall, imposing and had a presence that was too hard to ignore. Yuuri caught a few glances of his own because anyone that knew anything about MMA in Japan knew about Yuuri at least. Together they made a sight to see, if they’d done so much as hold hands then attention would be unavoidable. So they simply walked side by side in each others’ company until they got to the narrow doorway that led upstairs into one of the most casual, laid back places to eat that Yuuri could think of. 

It had good food, private partitions and staff that knew him on sight, so all he needed to do was walk through the door with Victor behind him and the waitress already knew where he wanted to be seated and what he wanted to eat. 

After a 10 minute wait they found themselves seated opposite each other at the very back of the upstairs bar. The booth was small with paper wall panels screening off the tables in front and behind, smoke and the smell of char lingered in the air from all the hot plates built into the tables around them, and the hustle and bustle of friends getting together on the weekend filled the entire establishment with life. Glasses clinking, orders being called, jokes being told and the laughter that came after; it was all around them and it made Yuuri feel like he’d made the right choice because it was just as comfortable and private as it had been at the cafe last week. It was just what Yuuri wanted and hoped for, and the fact that Victor didn’t seem to care that Yuuri had led him to some casual bar in the heart of Shibuya instead of some high class place that reflected Victor’s own stature only made Yuuri like him more. 

Victor had been inconceivable when they first met, an existence that Yuuri thought he’d never run into because their lives were too different. But Yuuri had run into him after all, he’d _knocked_ on Victor’s door and walked on in, and every time Yuuri saw him again Victor proved himself more and more amazing and _real_. 

This rapid infatuation was hard to comprehend and impossible to deny, because as soon as the waitress put water on their table and left with their order; Victor was doing that same thing he did last week and stretching his legs out under the table to slot them against Yuuri’s own. No one could see them, the gentle smile on Victor’s face as he acted oblivious. No one could see the slight colour on the tips of Yuuri’s ears because it was clear to him now how much Victor liked touching him whenever he had the chance, whenever he _could_. 

“Your ears are cute.” Victor teased over the rim of his glass moments before he sat back and had a drink. The grill was warming up between them, another order was just called in the cooks loud voice, and Yuuri couldn’t help but bristle at Victor’s attempt to fluster him. 

“Your face is cute.” Yuuri retorted, and he only regretted it for two seconds before Victor started laughing the best laugh anyone could ever laugh. 

“I’m happy you think so.” And Victor’s reply was so painfully honest that Yuuri reeled, because Victor said it like it was the first time he’d heard those words. Or maybe it was the first time he’d heard those words from someone who meant them, Yuuri had no idea, but it made him think of what Chris said in Yokohama last week. _’More fragile than you think.’_

That was absolutely crazy for so many reasons, because Victor was the picture of power and confidence. Yuuri would never forget the image of someone who looked _too_ dangerous stalking back and forth in front of that window in Victor’s apartment when he heard him on the phone the morning after he’d stupidly crashed out on Victor’s bed. He couldn’t shake the sight of Victor’s deep rooted strength as he’d stood outside that club in Yokohama to wait for Yuuri after the post fight event. It was mad, because who could say those words to Victor and not mean them? Who could hurt someone like _Victor_ for him to be fragile in the first place? Even the thought alone annoyed Yuuri.

“So Celestino has been working you hard then?” Victor cut in to Yuuri’s thoughts with his question at the same time as various plates of meat, vegetables and rice arrived at their table. The waitress couldn’t decide who to look at as she put things down one after another next to the grill, and even though Victor smiled up at her when he said thank you it was completely different to the smile he always gave Yuuri. That satisfied Yuuri in a way he’d never experienced, the only thing he could do in response was rub his calf against Victor’s under the table and bask in the way Victor hummed in reply. 

There was no point cutting edges or avoiding the truth of why Celestino had been kicking his ass all week, already Yuuri had come to grips with the fact that he was going to have to fight again. His body knew it, his heart knew it, it was his overthinking brain that was the problem and needed to catch up. If there was anyone who he could talk to apart from Phichit or Celestino, Minako or Nishigori back home - it was Victor. Victor who knew the situation already, Victor who’d been _helping_ him even if it worked out weirdly in Victor’s favour too.

“Mm.” Yuuri confirmed it as he put some vegetables and meat on the grill in between them to let them cook while they talked. “Things can’t stay the way they are I guess.”

Only after he said it did Yuuri think about all the meanings in what he’d said, about all the things it could apply to. Oh, he was talking about his stalled career, but right here and now it could easily apply to them and what they were doing. Victor stopped moving because he knew it too, paused with a pair of small metal tongs in his hand, his eyes locked on Yuuri and his mouth open as he tried to find words to say.

The moment had been turned on its head, thrust into unknown waters with a mere sentence and neither of them knew what to do now, maybe they were going to be no good at actually talking about it. 

“I guess not.” Victor sighed and kept at what he was doing, his movements deliberate as his eyes stayed on Yuuri. “But I’m sure it will work out if you want it to.” 

Ah, there was that ‘want’ word again, it was weighted with the question that either of them had yet to even ask. It was hard to ignore the fact that Victor sounded flat like he wasn’t expecting anything, like this right here was as far as it would go. 

“Of course I want it to.” And it was all Yuuri could say without getting ahead of himself or spilling all his misgivings like the fact they were pretty much dating while he was in Victor’s debt, like the fact he didn’t want to fall to deep while that debt was there, like the fact he might _not_ actually fight and they’d never get out of this situation. 

Except he left it at that because it was the only thing he could say, he couldn’t make promises or give anything more because he had nothing more that he could give. The only reassurance he could offer was that he did want it. 

And even though they’d danced around the topic and avoided speaking plain words, the affection in Victor’s smile, in his words, in his eyes as he replied was unmistakable. “That’s good then.” 

This was another one of those overwhelming moments where there were too many feelings that Yuuri didn’t know what to do with, feelings that were impossible to act on because there was a table in between them and a burning hot grill as an added bonus. 

As usual, Victor could see it on his face, because then that smile turned into something cheeky and full of sparks instead as he decided to push Yuuri’s buttons. 

“If we were in private right now I would kiss you.” Victor said it low for Yuuri’s ears alone. It wasn’t a lie, Yuuri knew that’s exactly what Victor would do because Yuuri would have done the exact same thing. And now he could have cursed his choice in date venues because all he could do was stare at Victor across the table instead. 

But it was just as fun to push Victor’s buttons too, just as exciting to challenge him and watch that heat flare in his expression: Yuuri teased right back, “about time you kissed me first.” 

The reaction he wanted was _instant_. The small clench of Victor’s jaw, the curl of his lip, the blowing out of his pupils into something unfathomable and wild. Oh, this was too much fun. Yuuri’s heart was thumping much too heavy considering that he was just sitting down in some busy bar in Shibuya. 

“About time you say?” Victor drawled as his eyes pinned Yuuri on the spot. Under the table, Victor rubbed his ankle up the length of Yuuri’s calf like the promise that his question was. “I’ll make sure to fix that for you then.” 

There was nothing Yuuri could say to that, no come back or tease on the tip of his tongue, he could only swallow past the suddenly dry lump in his throat and brace himself. 

Things had escalated so quickly into something much closer to the mood shared between them in the bedroom, the silence heavy even as the noise of the bar continued on around them. The heat, the eye contact - it was so intense that it was laughable, and so that’s exactly what Yuuri ended up doing. He laughed at the craziness of it all because they were as stubborn and competitive as each other. He had to shut his eyes for a second and take a breath, and when he opened them Victor had this look of awe on his face like Yuuri was a wondrous new species. Seconds after that: Victor started laughing too, before he just shook his head and went back to turning their food on the grill.

“Does Chulanont goes out with the Korean bantamweight?” Victor changed the subject to something light and much easier to talk about as they started eating. 

Chopsticks in hand and his stomach happy to finally get fed, Yuuri answered and felt at ease to be talking about something so casual yet special because Phichit was his best friend. “Mm, it hasn’t been very long.” 

It’d only been a few months for Phichit and Seung-Gil who was the current bantamweight champion, and only a handful of people knew. The fact that Phichit had blurted it out in front of Victor said it was okay for Yuuri to say that much at least.

“Hm. I never would have picked it.” Victor said offhandedly as he put down his chopsticks to have a drink. 

“Yeah.” It came as no surprise that it was news to Victor. “There is a lot of crazy stuff that goes on with the fighters that we and the federation keep quiet.” 

Victor huffed a laugh, “Oho, like what?” 

Phichit would probably never forgive him for this, not many people knew that the Thai fighter was the most hyperactive drunk you could ever meet, even more so than Yuuri. And when you combine drunk Phichit Chulanont with weeks worth of training fatigue before his first title fight and winning said title fight in Las Vegas of all places, you had yourself a story to tell. 

Yuuri told Victor about Phichit’s shenanigans that were blockbuster worthy and left all the details about himself out as they ate. No one needed to know about Yuuri’s alcohol triggered habit of taking as many layers of clothing off as possible. And it was worth telling the story of how Phichit had drunkenly proposed to Seung-Gil on his knees with his huge title belt as a gift all those years ago even though they’d only just met, because he got to see Victor laugh and smile again as they went through all the food on their table. 

There was no shame in admitting that Yuuri’s stomach was akin to a bottomless pit, he trained hard and his body was in constant need of fuel, so they ended up ordering more as the conversation continued, and soon enough Yuuri finally started to learn a few things about Victor as he worked up the courage to ask questions. 

He learnt that Victor grew up St Petersburg and that his birthday was on christmas day, he learnt that Victor had lived in Tokyo for three years in the same apartment he was in now. He learnt that as happy as Victor looked to answer Yuuri’s questions: there was this deep seated reluctance in talking about himself, some part of Victor that was still closed off and wary to say too much. It was the melancholy smile that gave it away again, an echo of loneliness that Yuuri hated to see. 

That look changed whenever Victor asked Yuuri questions about him though, the interest was honest and genuine, and so in turn Yuuri told Victor all about Hasetsu, about the castle on the hill with the ninjas, and the beach with annoying seagulls that his old dog used to chase. It was the most they’d ever talked, the longest they’d spent together, and it wasn’t long enough. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, too many, but time mocked Yuuri yet again and passed by way too quickly compared to how slow it’d been this morning. There was only so long you could stay in a busy place where people were waiting for a table of their own, there was only so much food they could order even though Yuuri would still probably eat it all. And as they finished off the last of their food: Yuuri could see something uncertain flicker in Victor’s eyes. Something bad was coming. 

“Yuuri.” Victor said, soft. He hadn’t even put his chopsticks down yet.

Here it was though, the part where Yuuri learnt this was too good to be true, the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, and that after all this Victor decided he wasn’t serious about anything and this whole time Yuuri had been making assumptions on his own. Suddenly Yuuri felt sick, like he’d eaten too much and now he couldn’t move, and Victor just kept looking at him with that inner conflict warring on his face that said he didn’t know the nicest way to break it to him.

“What is it?” The coldness in Yuuri’s voice after being led on like this surprised even him.

There was no way to tell if Victor was taking too long to answer or if time really was just being a jerk and slowing right down, but in the end Victor just let out one big breath before he finally got on with it. “I have to go away for work for a week, so I won’t be seeing you until the one after that.” 

The only thing Yuuri was capable of even thinking in that moment because he was _relieved_ was: “Thank god.”

His entire body let out the tension that’d held him, the held breath that’d braced itself in his chest, and his heart slowed back down as he relaxed.

“Thank god I’m going away?” Victor asked like he’d misheard, like this wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Of course Yuuri was still disappointed, of course he had more questions now, but that relief overrode it all. 

“Nononono,” Yuuri back tracked as he realised what he said sounded completely wrong and there was no way Victor could have known that he was thinking the worst. “I just - when you said my name like that, it sounded like.. you know.” 

Understanding crossed Victor’s face a split second later, and then he was grinning; his perfect white teeth showing as the amusement of it all reached all the way to Victor’s eyes. “Pfft, why would I do that?” 

There was only so much charming Victor that Yuuri could handle in one day, and it looked like Yuuri had finally exceeded his limit as his mental faculties left him. He had to avert his eyes, look at the art of some samurai and a tiger on the wall and read the kanji while completely ignoring what it actually said. “I don’t know.” 

“I don’t know either.” Victor chuckled back and Yuuri wished he would stop with that for one second so he could settle the feeling in his chest. But it wasn’t to be, because from the corner of his eye - on the wooden table top next to the grill - Victor’s hand slid across the table in an offer for Yuuri to take it.

Whether Victor chose that hand on purpose was a mystery, but there was no taking his eyes off the black and gold motif of that ring on Victor’s finger. It could be that Victor was just that good at knowing what he wanted, every time he saw that ring Yuuri wanted to touch it and feel it under his fingertips. So this time he did. He reached out with his own hand and circled that square of obsidian on the top of Victor’s finger. 

The significance wasn’t lost to Victor too, who looked down at their touching hands with a troubled look on his face like this was tracing something too close to whatever Victor didn’t want to talk about. He could see the tightness in Victor’s throat, the way his lips pursed, the hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there two seconds ago.

But it was now or never, Yuuri had steered much too clear of this topic with all his other questions, Victor would either tell him or he wouldn’t.

“And what’s work for you?” Yuuri chose that moment to twine their fingers together on the table, heedless of the fact that someone could come and clear their empty plates at any given time.

If Yuuri though that silence from a person couldn’t scare him before, he was wrong. Victor’s grip tightened in his hand as Victor stilled, eyes distant and deep, body rigid, jaw set firm with tension. Disquiet bled through the longer Yuuri looked at him, unease and indecision, and then: distress.

Yuuri was an idiot, he was the reason for that look Yuuri didn’t want to see on Victor’s face, if Victor _wanted_ to tell him then he would. “Ah- don’t worry, just forget I asked. Sorry.” 

“No.” Victor snapped his head up to look at him as he came back from whatever dark place his mind had taken him for those few seconds, “It’s fine.” 

There was another drawn out pause, and then Victor was pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand as he tried to let go of whatever was afflicting him. “I guess…. The only way I can put it right now is that I work in international security.” 

International security. Holy shit. Maybe all the crazy theories Phichit had been spewing were right. His curiosity piqued, Yuuri couldn’t help but ask another question. “So you’re an important person then?”

And Victor _flinched_ as that unease crossed his face once more. That hand squeezed his own a little bit more, and then it went completely slack. “I’m a lot of things, Yuuri, important isn’t one of them.”

That was a lie to Yuuri at least, he’d only known Victor’s face and his name for 6 weeks and he’d already become scarily important to Yuuri for all that he’d done for him. He couldn’t begrudge Victor his secrets, it’s not like Yuuri would want to tell Victor about the panic attacks or anxiety that lurked in the back of his mind and reared their ugly heads whenever everything seemed to be going fine. No way did he want to tell Victor about the first time he even _thought_ about getting back in the octagon after losing and the resulting mess he’d become.

So it was time to let the subject drop, that ocean blue of Victor’s eyes was becoming much too perilous for Yuuri to know what to do with, and he was determined to end their date on a warm note instead of the frigid waters they were in. 

“I’m sorry.” Victor gave him this sad smile as the strain between them passed, his thumb rubbed circles atop Yuuri’s own on the table. “Not the best way to finish a meal.” 

“When will you be back?” Yuuri asked instead of keeping that same sombre line of conversation. He might have been asking too much too soon, but he _wanted_ it all the same now that the idea was in his head.

“I should be back this time next week. Why?” Victor answered, his tone careful. 

“Go out with me again?” He’d been nervous without realising it, holding onto Victor’s hand tight as he was the one to ask Victor out this time. It was something he never would have done if Victor hadn’t been the one to ask first yesterday, it was his turn to return the favour, and the look on Victor’s face was worth that split second fear of rejection.

This time, Victor tried to hide his smile, he tried to hide the rogue pink on his cheeks and the suddenly shy look in his eyes by placing his elbow on the table so he bury his face in his other hand. 

“You’re too much for me, Yuuri.” Victor mumbled behind his hand, Yuuri could still see the corners of his lips smiling, and liking the fact he was the reason for that look on Victor’s face said far too much about how he cared about Victor already.

“I could say the same thing you know,” Yuuri admitted with a laugh, he was giddy with the exact same feeling Victor was trying to hide. “So is that a yes or…?” 

Yuuri wasn’t prepared for what happened next, Victor composed himself in the space of a second, and then he took his face out of his hand and looked up at Yuuri with the full weight of all his charm. “Of course it’s a yes, Yuuri.”

Oh. His heart did a funny little thing at that, he was going on another date with Victor next weekend and he was already excited about it even though this date hadn’t even finished yet. “That’s settled then.”

“It is.” Victor agreed, and that charm really was bit too much as Victor caressed Yuuri’s hand one last time before he let go to call for their bill. 

* * *

It was mid afternoon by the time they walked back down the stairs into the streets of Shibuya which were just as crowded and noisey as they had been earlier. 

They took the walk back to Yuuri’s apartment slower knowing that their date was coming to an end, Victor already explained he had to go home start preparing to leave, and he didn’t look happy about it. So they ended up taking detours on the way, they stopped to look at shops neither of them had a real interest in, and whenever they were alone enough in the haphazard places that were a veritable maze of things to buy: Victor’s hands found him. A touch on the waist, a kiss against his temple, a squeeze of his hand before Victor moved away and acted like nothing happened. 

Slowly but surely, Yuuri was becoming flustered all over again because he kept thinking about that promise that Victor would kiss him first, and he knew it was coming. There wasn’t really anything he could do but _think_ about it as they got closer and closer to Yuuri’s apartment street by street. In between all that touching and teasing Yuuri somehow managed to tell Victor about what to bring next weekend because there was a place he wanted to show him, and so they planned next weekend’s date properly as they walked the final distance back to the apartment.

Into the small lobby they went, into the elevator that went to the underground parking lot where Victor’s car was. They stood shoulder to shoulder as it went down, the quiet between them electric as the doors opened for them to step out. 

They got all the way to Victor’s car and Yuuri thought Victor’s promise might have been fake after all. There was no one around, the carpark was private, only people in the apartment used it, yet Victor still hadn’t made a move despite the look in his eye that said he wanted to.

It was only the sound of their footsteps now. Victor took his keys out and pushed the button to unlock the Ferrari that stood out amongst all the other cars just as much as the owner did in a crowd. The lights flashed once as the doors unlocked, and finally they were at Victor’s driver door to say goodbye. 

He was in front of Victor so they could fit between his car and the one next to it, and before he could even stop, before he could turn around and start an awkward goodbye that Yuuri would never be good at: Victor said his name.

“Yuuri.” 

There was no chance to respond, because then he was spinning. Caught in the whirlwind that was Victor Nikiforov as his hand was tugged so he could turn around and be pulled into Victor’s arms. 

Victor’s strong forearm pulled him in at the waist until their bodies were flush, and then Victor’s other hand wound itself into the hair at the nape of his neck and sent goosebumps all the way down his spine at the touch. 

He only got to see the self satisfied look on Victor’s face for a heartbeat before Victor was kissing him first like he said he would.

The thing Yuuri was starting to realise with Victor even though he hadn’t known him that long, even though it would be even longer before he _really_ knew him; was that it didn’t matter because it still only took one second to fall. And this was plummeting - hurtling towards the unknown at break-heart speed with only Victor’s arms to catch him.

There was nothing gentle about this kiss, nothing soft or hesitant. It was all hunger and open mouthed want as lips parted and tongues met. Those fingers tightened their grip in his hair, and Yuuri could only open his mouth further because all he wanted was more.

His own hands were clutching at the fabric of Victor’s shirt, holding on for dear life as they both spiralled further and further out of control. Yuuri’s heart was trying to beat out of his chest, his blood thrumming as he breathed in between hungry kisses, and then Victor was pushing Yuuri up against the cold surface of the Ferrari so that they had something to lean on because it was clear they were both falling. 

This was making up for that weeks worth of distance Victor had put between them, it was making up for the week Victor would be away too. 

For how long they kissed against the side of Victor’s car, Yuuri couldn’t say, he lost track of everything but the fingers in his hair, the hand on his waist and Victor’s tongue in his mouth. Eventually they had to stop and breathe, to try and gather themselves enough to part. That edge of Victor’s want was still there as the kisses trailed off into chaste touches of their lips, and finally they were able to look each other in the eye without losing it all over again.

“Are we even with the first kisses now?” Victor teased as he pulled Yuuri into his chest to pepper kisses in his hair, the fingers at the nape of his neck were dancing lazily across his skin, and Yuuri was going to actually melt this time.

He was still too shell-shocked to give a real answer, dazed and reluctant to let it end. “I think so… yeah.” 

Victor chuckled and kissed him one last time on the forehead before he let Yuuri go and stepped back. “Good. So I’ll see you next week then?” 

“It’s a date.” Yuuri said the exact same words Victor said to him yesterday.

“I’m already looking forward to it.” Victor admitted to him as they shuffled around so he could open his car door. Before he got in, Yuuri thought of one last question that surely Victor could answer.

“Victor?” Yuuri was the one to call his name this time. 

“Mm?” And Victor was the one to turn around so he could look at Yuuri once more. 

“What did you say to me last week? When you said goodbye?” 

“Oh, that?” There was that oblivious act again. Victor put on an innocent smile and cocked his head at the same time he brought a finger to his lip like he was thinking about it. “I’ll tell you next week.” 

Victor winked and stole one last kiss from Yuuri’s lips as Yuuri stood there stunned, and Yuuri was left waiting until next week for an answer. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Kneel Before Your Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895885) by [Ashida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashida/pseuds/Ashida)




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